His Songbird of the Night
by nicole813711
Summary: Marie Dupoint is a chorus girl and ballet rat, similar to Meg Giry and Christine Daae, her friends, and 'sisters'. She has had an extremely dark past. When the Phantom rescues her from Josef Buquet, events start to unfold that will change all their lives, and change what was meant to happen. As they say, fate is never set in stone, just as love can be found unexpectedly. Erik/OC
1. Setting the Scene

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**A/N: The following is to set the scene for the first chapter for my first POTO fanfiction. If everyone likes the idea, and if I have enough time, I may decide to later turn this 'setting the scene' chapter into a separate story that will act as a prequel to this one. I also added all of their respective ages, so that you know the approximate ages throughout the fic. **

Marie (11) is a mysterious newcomer to the Opera Populaire. She has an audition as a member for the ballet and is accepted. She quickly befriends Christine Daae(7) and Meg Giry (7), two fellow ballet students at the Opera Populaire. Years slowly past and Christine's infatuation and belief in her 'Angel of Music' grow to a point that Marie (22) can no longer ignore it. Meg (18) also begins to wonder if this is all in Christine's (18) head, something created through her father's death, or something mysterious is occurring at the Opera Populaire.

After the Hannibal performance when Christine disappears, Marie and Meg find her in the chapel and sing with her a tale of an angel of music. As Meg and Christine leave, Marie feels a presence commonly known to the Opera House as the 'Phantom' or 'O.G'. Is this Phantom also Christine's tutor?

After Christine being abducted and Christine's 'Angel of Music' returns her to the company of the Opera Populaire, a note received amongst various other notes signed 'O.G', Marie is even further assured that the mysterious 'Angel of Music' and illustrious 'O.G' are one and the same.

Follows 2004 Plotline loosely, AU… Erik/OC


	2. The Unsung Hero

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

"Come on Marie, dear, relax," Charles sighed as I taped my foot impatiently. Charles was a stagehand, one of my three closest friends, and we were standing up on one of the catwalks. It was the opening night of _Il Muto_ and I, a ballet rat and chorus girl, would not be performing tonight because I had been too ill to attend rehearsals. It was terribly boring being forced to watch the performance rather than part-taking in it. I swear, I will _kill_ Roselina for getting me sick five days before the performance! I had missed three days of rehearsals, causing me to be ill-fit for performing in the opera.

"I'm sorry Charles! It's just so terribly boring! I can't believe I fell ill right before rehearsals!" I hissed to anger as we watched canopy around the bed on the stage open, revealing Carlotta and Christine to be 'kissing'. I sighed impatiently and in anger at this new sight. Christine was another of my three closest friends, the third being Little Meg Giry. I knew Christine had a splendid voice, yet they cast that true toad- Carlotta- instead!

"Oh dear," Charles muttered as we listened to Carlotta's earsplitting voice screech. I winced yet again as I sighed, shaking my head.

"Christine has a wonderful voice. I can't believe they won't cast her just to spite _him_," I muttered to Charles. He nodded before taking a sip from his hipflask, which I knew to contain water. We both knew that by '_him_' I meant the Phantom. He had requested- more like demanded- that Christine play the part of the Countess and Carlotta the page boy. I had been there when the note had been read in fact, and I couldn't help but agree with _him_. Carlotta would most likely just ruin this show.

"I know. It was never like with all the prior managers! They all listened to _him_," Charles agreed with a sigh as the 'Count' walked in, singing of his leaving to England.

"Yes, and it was because _he_ knew best. These two know nothing of opera. They're just stubborn businessmen who _think_ they know best. If they would only take _his_ criticism in stride, the Opera House's reputation wouldn't be sinking once again," I replied angrily as I huffed, watching as Christine threw off her costume and they continued to sing. We watched quietly before Charles replied.

"Yes. Well, at least both she and Meg look-," Charles began to say when a deep, voice resounded off the walls of the theatre. I glanced up at the ceiling in shock to see a dark figure standing up by the service door for the chandelier.

"Did I not instruct that box five was to be kept empty?" I watched as the figure stood there, his deep voice still resounding across the theatre. The audience stared up in shock and confusion while many of the performers stood nervously on stage. I could hear, even from the catwalk, whispers and hisses of it being _him_- The Phantom of the Opera.

"He's here, the Phantom of the Opera!" I could hear Meg saying anxiously yet excitedly. I turned to Charles who was shaking his head.

"I'll be right back- stay here," he said, putting his hands on my shoulders before turning and running across the catwalk.

"Where are you going?!" I shouted after him. He stopped at the end of the catwalk and turned back to look at me.

"I have to help restore order!" he called to me before he climbed a rope to another catwalk, leaving me alone. I sighed as I looked down at the stage, seeing Carlotta using her spray before walking back onto the stage and speaking to Monsieur Reyer, our maestro.

"A disaster beyond imagination, indeed," I muttered. That hadn't seemed to be such a terrible disaster. It was at most, up to par with his other tricks and pranks he pulled at the opera house. It was terribly unimaginative for the Opera Ghost. Unless… unless there was something else. I frowned at this and walked across the catwalk, trying to get a better view of the stage. I moved to another catwalk, located right above the stage and watched as Carlotta began to sing again.

"You cannot-a speak, but kiss me in my—_croak!_" I stopped mid-stride, staring down at Carlotta's shocked figure. I started to giggle uncontrollably then, unable to hold it in any longer. "Poor fool he makes me laugh, _croak, croak, croak!_" I began to laugh even harder as she screamed and ran off the stage, the curtain falling in place. It was about time she received what she dished out to everyone. I heard the thud of footsteps coming closer and I felt the catwalk I was on swing, jiggling. I looked up to see a rather decidedly drunk Josef Buquet stumble onto the catwalk, a bottle of alcohol of some sorts in his hands. He was red in the face and seemed far drunker than normal- something that was both funny yet terribly dangerous… for me.

"Well, well, well. Lookie what we've got he'e," Buquet said, slurring his words. He smiled at seeing me. "I was-a… chasin' that… der… Phan-Phan-ghost. Looks like we got a real beauty up here," he said, his smile turning slightly sadistic. "What's wrong, Princess? Did yer lil' toy leave you all alone?" he asked, gesturing down backstage to where Charles was standing.

"Charles and I are just friends, Buquet, and I'd advise you leave me alone… _now_," I told him. Everyone knew Buquet had to be handled firmly. He stumbled closer, now only a few inches away from me. I stepped back, leaning up against the rope of the catwalk, only to realize there wasn't anywhere else for me to go except to run to the end of the catwalk and attempt to climb up to the one above us.

"Nah… I don't think I will," he whispered as he took another step closer so that he was practically right on top of me. "I'd very much like to have a good time with you and try you out. I may not get this chance again," he said as his hands moved down to my breasts, cupping them.

"Get _off!_" I yelled, trying desperately to push him away. He only grabbed my arm, jerking it behind me, and pulled me closer.

"Make me," he replied, his hot and terribly breath fanning across my face. I gagged, faintly hearing the music for the ballet from Act 3 begin. I struggled some more, trying desperately to separate myself from this beast but his grip was painfully strong- too strong for me to break away from.

"Get off! Charles will _kill_ you for this! He'll get you!" I cried out, still trying to break away, hoping that the threat of Charles coming down hard on him would scare him. After all, Charles was a strong, good man and stagehand. He was stronger than Buquet, that was for sure, and Charles was one of the only stagehands that Buquet wouldn't wish to cross.

"He won't know, princess," he hissed again as his hands moved up to the top of my dress and slipped downwards, touching the cloth of my corset.

"Get-"

"Shut up!" He hissed before shoving me to the ground and straddling me. I cried out again as I felt him slip his hand up my skirt, feeling up the insides of my thighs. I yelled out again, hoping desperately for someone to hear me as his hand slipped upwards, grasping the top of my slip. "Shhh… you'll enjoy this," he whispered as I continued to cry.

"Please, stop!" I cried, hoping to appeal to whatever humanity he had left. I was now pleading, begging at this point to no avail. He wasn't stopping and I could see no other alternative: he was set on deflowering me. "Please! Please, help me! Someone please help!" I cried out. As I felt him start to pull down my slip, I saw a flicker of movement in the shadows before Buquet was thrown from me and across the catwalk.

I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes and pulled myself to my feet to face my rescuer. He was dressed all in black, practically blending with the shadows, except for a stark white mask. His face was emotionless as he took in my state. He opened his mouth, to ask what I wasn't sure, but was interrupted by Buquet leaping from his position on the ground onto his back, trying to push him over the side of the catwalk.

I jumped back, gasping in horror as they both fell to the floor of the catwalk. The man, my rescuer, who I now knew to be the Phantom, rolled over, pinning Buquet to the ground and punching him square in the jaw. Buquet fell backwards, seemingly dazed, and the Phantom stood up. His back was to me and I watched as he appeared to brush dust off before turning to face me.

I looked into his eyes, registering them as a beautiful green color, lighter than emerald but still possessing that same gem-like quality. The thing that probably drew me most about his eyes was the raw emotion I could see in them. There was such pain in them and loneliness that it made me want to cry out in sorrow. I felt a weird sensation, as if I was drawn to him, and I couldn't help but wonder what made him- this _man_, not ghost- so sorrow-filled and lonely. What on earth would cause such a man to live such a lonely life, haunting an opera house? What on earth could force him to take up the mantle of a ghost, cut off from everyone?

It was then that he stumbled again as Buquet launched at him, wrapping his arm around his neck, attempting to choke him. The Phantom easily threw him off and turned to glare at him. Buquet charged at him, pushing him against the rope which gave a strained noise from the weight. The catwalk swayed dangerously and I stumbled, grabbing the opposite rope to hold myself up.

I watched in horror as the rope snapped and the two looked about to topple over the catwalk. They both grabbed the edge, forcing it to tilt. I held on to the rope, fearing for my life. If I released the rope now, I would fall over the edge of the catwalk and onto the stage, surely to catch my death.

I cried out in shock as the Phantom and Buquet both scrambled back onto the catwalk, the rope in the Phantom's hand. The catwalk leveled and I released my grasp on the rope. I heard a strangled cry from Buquet as he once more launched himself at the Phantom, who hit him squarely in the jaw. Buquet fell to the ground and the Phantom leapt on top of him, pinning him down. He slipped the rope around his neck, tying it into a noose, and yanked the rope.

He stood up, pulling Buquet to his feet by the rope. I heard Buquet give a strangled yell as the rope tightened. Glaring, Buquet tried to pull the rope loose as it slowly cut off his air supply. I opened my mouth, to shout and tell the Phantom to kill the miserable man already, but Buquet did the job all on his own. He made one last desperate charge at the Phantom. The Phantom, shocked, released the rope and quickly moved out of the way.

I watched as Buquet ran right off the edge of the catwalk, causing it to tilt dangerously, before leveling out again. I watched as the rope Buquet was attached to snag on a hook and Buquet was hung before my eyes. I heard a horrific snap as he fell down to hang just above the stage. I felt two hands grasp my shoulders and pull me back into the shadows of the catwalk as the ballet rats screamed, looking up in horror. The rope finally gave way and Buquet's lifeless body fell down onto the stage, next to Meg, with his lifeless eyes staring up towards the spot we stood.

I breathed a sigh of relief and turned to face the Phantom, the man who had saved my virtue and quite possibly my life. I saw him standing there with a grim expression on his face as he winced slightly, staring down at the body on the stage which was his doing. I could see in his eyes that he immediately regretted doing it, even though it wasn't necessarily his fault and since it was in both his and my defense. He looked up at me then, snarling slightly.

"If you value your life, you shall speak of this to no one," he told me, his voice deathly calm and dangerous. It was sharp, powerful, and commanding yet musical all at the same time. As if rooted to the spot, I simply nodded, struck by the beauty of what I could see of his face. He gave a curt nod, glaring slightly before turning to disappear into the shadows.

"Thank you," I whispered before he disappeared into the shadows.

"Marie!" I heard the call and I turned to see Charles running onto the catwalk. I cried slightly and fell to my knees just as Charles reached me. "Come on, let's go. He may still be here," he said as he pulled me up, walking away and scanning the shadows for the perpetrator of the murder. "Come on- they need to finish the performance and they need you on as the Pageboy. Let's go. Did you see anything? Are you alright? What happened?" I shook my head and nodded slightly as we walked down from the catwalk to the area backstage. _Yes, What did just happen?_

**A/N: Well, that was the first chapter of my very first POTO fanfic! I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while now! I hope you all enjoy it! Anyways, throughout the fanfiction, I will say that things may seems to be going a little quickly. However, as I don't want this to turn into a super long fanfiction, I will be skipping a lot of time. At the beginning of each chapter, usually there'll be an explanation of how much time has passed. I'll also add an explanation in the Author's note just in case. So, the next chapter will take place right after the cast finishes performing _Il Muto_, with Marie having played the part of the Pageboy, and Christine having played the part of the Countess. Carlotta, for those who wonder, has run off (for obvious reasons). **

**In addition, this fanfiction will take place in the 2004 movie. You can gather that it has followed the 2004 plot events up until this chapter. Everything from here will be different yet recognizable. **


	3. That Shape in the Shadows

**Disclaimer: I only own my OC characters! Nothing else!**

"He's murdered before, who's to say he won't do it again?" A stagehand shouted after Andre and Firmin had broached the subject of Buquet's death.

"He's a monster!" Another shouted while the rest called for the monster's head. I shook angrily in the back, furious at all of them. How quick they were to blame him; how quick to make him a scapegoat for all the unfortunate events.

"P-please calm down l-ladies and gentlemen," Andre called out, gaining silence for a minute. "There is no proof that he committed-," Andre started but was cut off by screams of outrage. The others were jeering at him, calling for the Phantom's death.

"Who else could it be?" Charles shouted, much to my dismay. I had thought Charles would have been, unlike the rest, a little more open minded and not so quick to judge. "He's a beast that kills in cold blood!" Charles continued. At that, I had had enough and I furiously pushed past the crowd and walked out to stand before the managers. The group quieted as they stared at me standing before the managers shaking in fury.

"I will tell you: Buquet's death was indeed no accident and it was indeed perpetrated by the illustrious Opera Ghost!" I shouted out into the din. There was an immediate uproar at my statement.

"Silence!" Firmin shouted, gaining the attention of the company. It was then I felt a presence watching me from above. With a quick and discreet look upwards, I found a white mask within the shadows, cold fury on the man's face. I returned my gaze to Firmin just as he said, "And how would you know this?"

"I know this because I witnessed the act," I said loudly and clearly. The uproar started again immediately but this time, I silenced the crowd with a quick shout of "Silence". The company's attention returned to me and I felt the heated gaze of the presence from above seem to multiply tenfold. "But it does not mean the act was not justified." There was silence for a moment before-

"And how, mademoiselle, could you consider murder justified?" Andre snarled viciously at me. I turned to him and gave him the hardest yet coldest look I could- one worthy of 'O.G' himself. I no longer felt the heated glare above me and, when I glanced, only saw a look of confusion.

"_Murder_, my dear sir, is not justified. _Killing_ can be justified if perpetrated under the appropriate circumstances," I hissed as slight tears came to my eyes, remembering the reason the Phantom had, indeed, committed the crime. "Murder is done in cold blood."

"And this was not, you say?" Firmin asked aggressively, shouts of agreement followed by the company.

"No, indeed it was not. The reason Joseph Buquet was killed is because- because-," I trailed off as the tears assaulted me, rendering me speechless for a moment. I felt a hand on my shoulder and glanced to see it was Meg, who wrapped her arm around my shoulder, offering silent comfort. I glanced upwards to see a remorseful and sad, twisted face in the darkness. Both gave the strength I needed to continue. "The reason he killed that vile wretch was to save my virtue and possibly my life," I told them before letting out a sob and falling to my knees.

"What?" I looked up to see Andre and Firmin as well as most of the company shocked, an emotion I could also feel radiating down from above in the rafters. I felt sorry for the poor masked man who was fated to live in darkness- a man who was, obviously, shocked I would speak up and defend him of his actions. It was obvious he had not been shown such kindness in a long time and, when catching a glimpse of his distraught face, it further proved this theory. "Marie- explain," Charles whispered throughout the backstage, followed by noises of agreement from the company in general. I nodded carefully and, wiping my tears, stood to recount my story.

"As all of you know, I was too ill for rehearsals and was unable to perform tonight's production of _Il Muto _because of it," I began, closing my eyes and concentrating on three things: Christine's hand now on my shoulder, Meg's arm on my shoulder, and the distraught presence far above on the catwalk. "I decided, rather foolishly, that I would climb up to the catwalks and watch the production with the stagehands- one particularly my friend Charles," I told them, opening my eyes. I still concentrated on the three yet I also shifted my focus to Charles and the company, all of which stood speechless. "When _he_, the Phantom, interrupted the performance, Charles left me alone to help restore order, promising to return afterwards. I stayed where I was and continued watching the performance and the ordeal with Carlotta. It was then that, as I moved to get a better view, I ran into a decidedly drunk Buquet," I said. I could see looks of horror on many of the stagehands' faces.

"Marie-," Charles started, probably to apologize for foolishly leaving me alone, but I stopped him with a raised hand.

"Allow me to speak, Charles," I told him, to which he nodded. "Buquet decided that he could spare a few moments before chasing the Opera Ghost once more and decided that I would be perfect for a bit of fun. Of course, he in his drunken state, would not allow me to get away with out receiving what he wanted: my deflowering," I spoke, a few silent tears escaping my eyes. I felt a squeeze on my shoulder and I glanced upwards at the masked man, who noticed, and immediately melted into the shadows. Though I could no longer see him, I still knew he was there. "He was starting to undress me when he was thrown from me. There- standing between him and I- was the infamous Opera Ghost." At this there was a bit of an outbreak.

"Are you sure it was him?" One of the stagehands shouted. I closed my eyes and raised my hand to silence them, which they proceeded to immediately do. I nodded before opening my eyes.

"I am certain it was him, monsieur," I said but was again met with a minor uproar. The majority of the company shouted, clambering for more details on the Opera Ghost: was he like Buquet described? Was he hideous? Was he handsome? Did he have his ill-fated Punjab Lasso?

"It was his wish I speak of none of this to anyone," I said, interrupting the uproar. The silence and din returned as the company and managers hung onto my every word. "If respecting his wishes, I should not even be telling you this but I feel he deserves his name to be cleared," I told them. There were a few looks of shock and gasps but I raised my hand again to silence them. "I shall, therefore, respect his wishes and say no more than necessary."

"As I was saying before interrupted- Buquet proceeded to attack him, attempting to push him over the edge of the catwalk. The death of Buquet was both an act of self-defense and one for my protection, when he strangled that wretch. After asking I speak none of what occurred, he disappeared- vanished into thin air- just as a Phantom would," I told the silent company. "I believe him to be neither beast, monster, nor wretch but just that: a Phantom or ghost waiting in the shadows, trying his best to do right by this opera house," I continued to speak my opinion of him, trying to show my debt and gratefulness towards him without making it too obvious. I glanced above once more and saw a glimpse of a tear-stricken face filled with the pain of never having been shown kindness before now. It was, alas, a glimpse as the face quickly melted once more into the shadows. I knew though, that despite what I said, it was false.

I had only claimed him to be a Phantom for the sake of his reputation. In truth, both he and I knew he was just a man: one that had obviously never been shown kindness. One that felt emotion just as any of us, perhaps more strongly than any of us, and most certainly a man who was fated to skulk in the catacombs of the opera house, alone. I felt fury at whatever caused him to live like this, and sorrow at his pain. I knew that, should I ever have the chance, I would show him the kindness I could. However, the company need not know any of this, for I feared that if they did, they would use it against him and hunt him down. After all, for now they could not hunt what was not physical; they could not hunt a ghost.

"While it may not be my place to say so," I continued softly, having recaptured everyone's attention before saying, "I believe that his commands ought not to be ignored any longer. Not only has he saved me but many other ballerinas from the hands of that wretch, but his advice has long been useful for the prior managers and helped this Opera House flourish. I think we all ought to remember those times in the past years that his- er- not so gentle guidance has helped us to remain a prestige opera house in the entirety of the European continent. I think he deserves more credit and respect than… current people gives him," I said, looking pointedly at the managers. Many followed my gaze, resting on the managers, and murmurs of agreement filled the stage as the older also remembered the few fickle situations the opera ghost's commands had saved us from. It was, in truth, as much his theatre and home as any of us.

"Now, if you don't mind, I'm retiring to bed," I told the company at large. "Attempted rape, meeting Phantoms, and living to tell the tale is quite a trying day," I said, about to walk away when a note fluttered down from above me, landing neatly in my grasp. Christine, who stood next to me, backed several paces to Raoul, gazing fearfully at the note. Meg also looked slightly fearful, taking a step back while she and the company glanced upwards for signs of the note. I stared at the wax-skull seal on the front in wonderment.

"Mademoiselle, if you would please read the note," Andre said hoarsely. I nodded and ripped the seal, opening the envelope. I pulled a small letter from within and gazed at it before reading the contents to the company.

"_Fondest greetings to you all,_

_ I do hope that mademoiselle Dupoint has cleared any lingering doubts of the… unfortunate series of events to occur tonight. I thank her for mostly respecting my wish. It shall also be noted the kindness and loyalty she has shown me tonight. _

_ I also sincerely hope she has convinced my managers that their place is in the office and not the arts. It is high time they respect that the commands I set forth are for the well-being of this Opera House._

_ For now, I leave you with this. Further instruction shall be sent at a later time and date. _

_Until then, I remain your obedient and faithful servant,_

_O.G."_

I stopped reading the letter then and looked up and around the group. "That's all there is," I told them. There was a whisper immediately flying through the company. I looked to Christine, who was gazing fearfully and nervously up at the rafters, before she turned and fled, Raoul not far behind her. I handed the note to Meg before taking off after her.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**A/N: Alright! This is chapter two! Sorry that it's short! Anyways, from here on out, I'll only update if I receive at least three reviews! Just keep that in mind! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**This chapter takes place right after they finish _Il Muto_ for those who might be a tad confused. Anyways, again, I'm sorry if you think I'm going a little fast later on. Next chapter takes place in the Dressing Room in which Christine and Marie have a discussion. **

**Please review! :)**


	4. The Soprano's Flight

**Disclaimer: I only own my OC characters! Nothing else!**

I followed her through the halls of the opera, nearing the ballet dormitories, before I saw her duck quickly into her dressing room. I sped up before stopping outside the door to which Raoul was blocking. After staring intensely into his eyes, he shrugged and moved so I could enter her room. After a quick knock, I silently slipped into the room, shutting the door behind me.

"Christine," I said to her once I was inside the room. She looked up at me with tears in her eyes, which she quickly wiped away. "Christine, why are you here? What are you doing?" I asked, looking around the room at the bag or two she had packed of her own personal belongings. I looked up at her, shaking my head, knowing she was leaving, yet not wanting to believe it.

"I'm sorry Marie. I must leave- now. I'm sorry. Please tell Meg that," she said quickly while I shook my head. I looked up into her eyes to see she was absolutely serious. How long would she be gone? Would she ever come back? Why was she leaving? Where was she going? I presume she was running off with Raoul. _That_ thought left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. She didn't think it but I'd put it all together. We knew her 'Angel' was strict but he wasn't an angel. He was the Phantom of the Opera. So if her 'Angel' had requested she not court, she had obviously been disobeying him by running around with Raoul.

"Why, Christine? Why?" I asked her. Her eyes went wide for a brief second before she closed them and shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. "How long shall you be gone for? Will you return?" I asked doubtfully, causing her to look up, tears still in her eyes. She glanced briefly towards the closed door before back at me.

"I'm sorry, Marie. I really am," she said quietly. "I… I'm not sure if I will return before then, but I will be in attendance at the Masquerade Ball. I'm sorry, Marie," she told me again, shaking her head rapidly as if trying to expel certain thoughts. I blinked a few times to ensure I wouldn't cry before I stepped up to her and pulled her in for a hug. She returned it, sobbing briefly onto my shoulder while I rubbed her back. Sadly I let a few silent tears escape my eyes, thankfully unnoticed.

"Where are you going? You will be safe, correct?" I asked her quietly as I pulled away a bit to look at her. There were red rims around her eyes- proof she had recently been crying, whereas my eyes were clear.

"Raoul is taking me away from here," Christine said quietly, causing the bitter thoughts to return. "He'll make sure I will be safe. We…," She said trailing off before speaking in a whisper, "are to be engaged." I looked at her, shock in my eyes, as the bitter thoughts return. So it was true: she was running off with Raoul and leaving the rest of us behind to deal with the aftermath. Surely the Phantom would be angered and she was leaving the rest of us to deal with it. Not to mention she was running off with a boy- an old friend- who she had barely gotten the time to know. She knew him then, when he was much younger, but they were both older now! She didn't even really know him now.

"Christine, are you sure? Why are you leaving? You know you can tell me anything… I- just be careful," I told her, my thoughts scrambled as I tried to pick out what I wanted to say to her. She nodded and gave a faint smile before it left.

"Yes. I must leave. As for why… I'm not sure-," She started but I decided to cut her off.

"It's to do with the Phantom, hasn't it?" I asked her quietly. She looked at me in shock. "Come now, Christine. I've known your "Angel' and 'O.G' have been the same person- or at least guessed- since Hannibal." She nodded quietly, wiping away a few more tears.

"Then yes, you know the reason why. I must go- now."

"Why?" I asked her. "He's your tutor, what's going on Christine?"

"I must go," she told me quietly. "He was angered tonight and he killed a man," she whispered hastily while glancing at the mirror. I looked over my shoulder at it to see it normally reflecting the room. "I… I can't… I'm scared Marie, scared. Scared isn't even the right word! I'm terrified that he- he might lose his anger again and hurt me or… kill Raoul. I just can't do this, Christine," she whispered hurriedly before breaking down and sitting on the small bed in her dressing room. I sat down next to her.

"I can't claim to know much, since I don't, Christine," I told her quietly. "But there are a few things I've guessed. Firstly, he told you not to court while studying under him. What do you think you've been doing this whole time with Raoul? You've been running around behind his back?" I told her. She shook her head as a few more tears leaked out. "Not to mention, it seems like he… he loves you. That's why he told you not to court and… it's why you especially fear for Raoul's life, isn't it?" I asked to which she nodded. "If he does, then he wouldn't hurt you Christine. In fact, as of what I'm seeing- you're hurting him," I told her.

"No- I never meant-"

"No one ever means to hurt a person they love," I told her sympathetically. "Trust me," I said bitterly. "If he truly loves you, he can not bear to hurt you." I shook my head at that, trying to clear it. "The fact is, it seems you aren't properly repaying him. He's spent many years tutoring you and making you great, giving you all the opportunities, and then you run off and court with Raoul behind his back. I'm sorry Christine, but it's where you went wrong," I told her. She shook her head, sobbing.

"Christine? Hurry up, we must leave!" Raoul's voice called in from the hallway. Christine shook her head before jumping up and grabbing her bags. I looked back at her, capturing her in my gaze.

"Christine-"

"I must go, Marie," she said quietly as we looked into each other's eyes, wondering how long we would be separated for.

"What are we to do, Christine? What are we to do without you or Carlotta? Who will sing?" I asked her quickly while she shook her head.

"You have a wonderful voice, Marie. I'm sure you could suffice until they find a new soprano. Goodbye, Marie. I'll see you at the ball," she whispered in a shaky breath before running out the door. Raoul stood there, his eyes going wide at the tears in her eyes, before he took the bags from her. They both ran out of sight, leaving the door open. It was then that Madame Giry appeared from the opposite direction, staring after them. She looked in and, seeing me on the bed, entered. I also became aware of a third presence in the room, though I assumed it was just due to my tired mind.

"Marie. Where has Christine gone?" she asked carefully. I shook my head, forcing the tears to dissipate.

"She's left. Run off with Raoul. She's scared the Phantom will harm her. He's her tutor, Madame. It's been him all along. She's run off and dear lord, how she's betrayed him. I'm sorry, Madame, for appearing to speak badly of Christine but oh how she's repaid him for his hard work over the years," I told her, shaking my head. She nodded carefully before sitting down on the bed. We sat in silence for a few moments before I broke it. "Who shall sing now, Madame? Christine's gone and Carlotta's no doubt run off. What're we to do?" I asked quietly, staring blankly at the wall. After a few moments of silence, I glanced over at Madame Giry who sat there silently. The feeling of a third presence in the room grew stronger.

"I'm not sure, Marie. Christine and Meg have always claimed you had a decent voice," she broached the subject and I shook my head.

"I'm sorry, Madame Giry, but I can't. I'm not all that good, trust me. We need to find someone- and soon," I told her. She nodded before standing and glancing briefly at the mirror. I too looked at it to see it was, like normally, reflecting the room. I turned to her with a confused look in my eyes. What was it with the mirror? Why had both Madame Giry and Christine glanced at it like that?

"I must leave, Marie. For now, you shall have to suffice. If you please, move your bags into this room. It's the first available dressing room," she said before leaving the room, closing the door behind her. I shook my head slightly as I sat there, staring at the door. I carefully stood up and moved to the mirror, staring into it at my reflection. How could they do this? I was by, no means, a good soprano. How would I be able to sustain this opera house until they find someone else?

"_No more talk of darkness,_

_Forget these wide-eyed fears,_

_He claims, nothing can harm her,_

_He'll guard her and he'll guide her._

_He says the day will free her,_

_The night will only cause her tears,_

_He's there, He's there beside her,_

_To steal her and to hide her."_

I stopped singing and bowed my head, leaning up against the mirror as a few silent tears leaked from my eyes. How could everything have gone so sour after everything had been going great? Now, she had left, most likely leaving a distraught Phantom behind, and now I was left to sing. What would I do? My voice was decent, better than the rest of the chorus, that was for certain, but I wasn't that good! How could I manage to carry this opera house until they found a new leading soprano or either Carlotta or Christine returned?

"Dear lord, what am I to do?" I asked myself as I leaned my head against the mirror. What was I to do? My voice was terrible and I'd never be able to hold some of the notes needed! My stage fright would also kill me out there! Sure, it was different being in ballet than in the limelight, singing. Not to mention, it'd take a lot to cover up my scars. I winced away at that thought, my hand reaching up to my back to trail lightly before dropping back down.

"_Brava, Brava,"_ a voice quietly sung, causing me to jump. I looked wildly around, spinning carefully before my eyes fell on the mirror again. Through the mirror, I couldn't see anything out of place in the room.

"Monsieur Le Fantome?" I asked quietly, looking around carefully.

"Yes?" I heard a pain-filled yet slightly amused voice question from behind me. I spun around to look. There was, of course, nothing there, so I resolved to turn and face the mirror once more only to see the Phantom standing in front of me. I jumped back, yelping slightly in shock, and nearly fell. I was caught just in time by a strong hand grasping mine and pulling me back up so I was steady. I brushed my dress off of dust and gave him a small smile of embarrassment.

"I apologize, Monsieur. You… startled me," I told him carefully, wondering what it was the fabled Opera Ghost wanted with me. I took a small step backwards out of nervousness of being this close to him. He noticed this and raised his eyebrow. When he took a large step forwards so that he was so close, just shifting would cause me to touch him, I had to force myself not to move. I moved my gaze upwards to look into his eyes to see he was studying me, as if measuring me up, but there was quite obvious emptiness. _Yet in his eyes, all the sadness of the world._ It was a phrase I had heard Christine sing countless times to both Meg and I after she returned from meeting her 'Angel'. I could see now how true that was. His eyes weren't empty tunnels, but they were filled with despairingly large amounts of sorrow and loneliness.

The pain, sorrow, and loneliness I saw in those eyes forced me to blink and lower my gaze. The raw emotion and depth within his eyes was overwhelmingly so, threatening to grasp a hold and pull you under with him. _Those pleading eyes that both threatened and adored. _It was another phrase I had heard Christine sing, referencing the man who stood in front of me, and it was alarmingly true. They could turn threatening in a minute but there was always this part that would remain pleading, begging for someone to rescue him from the loneliness and despair that was felt.

I could now understand why the man in front of me had captured Christine's sympathy and attention as so. I, on the contrary, could still not understand why Christine would ignore and betray such a seemingly honest and emotional man. It seemed so cruel that she should betray a man and throw the years of hard-work and love that he had dedicated to her, right back in his face. It was then I became aware that he was no longer directly in front of me but circling me, much as a predator would, and seeming to measure me up to his standards. _As a predator would… well, that's what he is, isn't he? He's a predator of the night_, I thought to myself as I stood still as I possibly could, not daring to move for fear it would show I feared him.

It wasn't that I feared him, no, for after looking into those heartbreaking eyes, I could not find it in me to fear him. He was no creature but a man who had been through much in his past, much that I would most likely never know of. No, I did not fear him, but I feared that he would mistake any movements for fear. After all, a man such as he would not understand, would he? He would most likely take it to be fear, something he had only ever been shown at this opera house. I just had the instinct that the fear was part of the reason for his sorrow. Everyone feared him, so he had no one, and was lonely. It was a terribly cruel life I would not wish onto my father, never mind this man.

"You do not give yourself enough credit," his voice said from somewhere behind me. I stood still, only now noticing that the mirror was no longer in place. Behind it lay a dark passage lit by many torches. I frowned slightly at that, before remembering the comment _he _made.

"I am confused as to what you mean, monsieur," I told him, wondering what the comment meant. What was I not giving myself enough credit for?

"You do, indeed, have a lovely voice mademoiselle. It is most certainly sufficient to carry the opera house until such a time when a trained soprano can take up the spot of Prima Donna," he told me. I smiled slightly and blushed at his compliment. No one other than Meg, Christine, and now the man before me had ever heard me sing. I had never believed Meg and Christine seeing as they were my friends. I had always believed they would lie to please me, but hearing it from him was different. He was a, sometimes cruelly so, honest man. Looking up, he had returned to stand a pace in front of me, yet still close enough that I could touch him if I extended my arm. "I do, however, have a proposition to make you," he added to which I looked up at him, frowning slightly.

"What is this proposition you speak of?" I asked to which he gave a slight smirk. He then started to slowly circle me again. I vaguely wondered if he was trying to intimidate me or scare me. If so, I knew it wasn't doing its job.

"I come with an offer to tutor you. I shall train your voice to a point of excellence. You shall rival, if not surpass, Christine Daae even. The potential your voice has is great," he told me as he continued to circle, seemingly to stop behind me.

"But…?" I questioned carefully, knowing there had to be a 'but' involved. I heard a dark chuckle sound from somewhere behind me. I remained still as he reappeared in front of me, slightly closer than I was comfortable with, but I did not complain.

"There are, of course, a few requirements you must meet," he did oblige as he continued to circle me, causing me a bit of discomfort. I nodded, as if to say 'go on', and waited for him to speak. "Firstly, you are to meet me here every night at seven o'clock, sharp, for lessons," he said, his voice coming from a spot near my left ear. "Secondly, when I call for you, you must come," he added from somewhere near the back of my neck.

"When you call me?" I questioned him, silently asking him to explain what he meant by that.

"If you hear my song, voice, or simply my call, you must come make the journey down to my… home," he responded carefully. I raised an eyebrow, wondering what he meant by his 'home', but I needn't question it aloud. He continued to say, "Should you agree to the proposition, I shall show you the way." I nodded as he continued circling me. "Thirdly," he said near my right ear. "You may not court for the duration of our lessons. Not only shall it distract you but I don't appreciate having men grope my students," he said to which I, again, nodded. "Fourthly, you shall listen to my instructions. Anything I request you do or if I request you to practice, you do it. Is this understood?" He asked as he came to a stop in front of me.

"Yes monsieur. I do have a clarification, when you say 'anything I request you do' do you simply mean music related or _anything_?" I asked him. I could be sneaky and cunning myself so I knew when clarification was needed. After all, I didn't want to agree to this and it end up being I had to do _anything_ at all he asked of me.

"Anything that pertains to music, that is," he clarified to which I nodded. "Any other questions?" he asked me.

"No monsieur," I replied carefully, getting tired quickly of the 'monsieur' thing. It was quite annoying and aggravating after a while. It was then I wondered if he had a name and, if so, what it could be.

"Then I shall take your answer now, mademoiselle, unless you need more time to consider your options," he told me rather formally, holding his hand out towards me. I cringed slightly at the formality knowing that, should I agree, I would definitely request he call me by my given name. Formality often irked me and I preferred he would call me by my name, especially if we were to spend every night together for who knows how long. I deliberated it for a few seconds before I had my decision made: I would agree to his proposition. It was one that would be rather beneficial to me in the years to come, working here at this opera house.

"I accept your proposition, monsieur," I said as I placed my hand in his and allowed him to slowly guide me through the mirror's frame and into the hallway beyond.

**Please review! :)**

**A/N: So this is the third chapter, finally uploaded! It's a decent length (at least on word). I'm keeping the three reviews for update policy in effect so just keep that in mind when reading! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**The next chapter, for those of you that question Erik's motives, will be in Erik's POV. It will explain his behavior in the dressing room, even though he was emotionally crushed by Christine not an hour or so before. Again, I hope you won't think it's going too fast and I will be letting you know the chapter in advance if there will be a time skip, as well as on the newly updated chapter.**

**I think that's about it so please review! Criticism is greatly appreciated and if you see any mistakes I missed, please let me know! **


	5. The Angel's Demise

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

_**Erik's POV**_

"_Order your fine horses! Be with them at the door!"_

"_And soon, you'll be beside me!"_

"_You'll guard me and you'll guide me…" _I listened as my sweet angel's voice faded away into the distance. They had finally left the roof. I slowly moved out from behind the statue I had hidden behind, moving onto the roof. I looked down at the rose and knelt beside it, crying silently. I fingered the rose, relishing its soft feel, just like the beautiful creamy skin of my angel. _An Angel who has betrayed you. She too despises your face,_ A part of me whispered bitterly, thinking back to what I had just witnessed: my Angel pledging her and her love to a foolish boy.

"_I gave you my music, made your song take wing," _I found myself singing as a few more tears leaked from my eye. _"And now, how you've repaid me, denied me and betrayed me," _I sang, breaking off slightly at the end. I felt a terrible pain in my chest, begging for release.

"_He was bound to love you when he heard you sing… Christine…"_ I broke off from singing, silently crying and whimpering. Singing wasn't releasing the terrible pain in my chest this time. It was too great, threatening to consume. The pain, loneliness, and despair- I was stranger to none of these. This time, the hurt, rejection, betrayal was to great to bare. Rejection, pain- again, I was no stranger, but betrayal. Betrayal was an emotion I hadn't felt too often- in fact, never. I was too young when my mother sold me away- too young to understand and feel betrayal. After my escape, no one else ever came close enough for me to be betrayed. No one except Christine, my Angel of Music. My songbird, who now feared, loathed, and despised me. My beautiful jewel who was running off with a boy- a boy who didn't understand the cruelties of the world, who wasn't prepared to protect her from it. Oh, Christine.

"_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime_

_Say the word and I will follow you_

_Share each day with me, each night, each morning…"_ I heard their voices float to me- the boy's and my Angel's. As if it wasn't bad enough I had to witness the kiss and the song proclaiming their pledge of love to each other. No, this was like a kick in the abdomen, furthering my pain.

As if trying to protect myself, as if to stop the pain, I doubled over, clenching my fists as I cried silently on the roof in the cold. The cold unfazed me, as did the snow, but it only allowed me to realize just how alone I was. Beaten, abused, jeered at as a child. Saved, accepted by Madame Giry who I only alienated myself from. I was a murderer- killing Buquet, the gypsy camp owner, a few men in the alley preying on ladies and girls alike. Was it enough to redeem me for my crimes? For my deformed face and soul alike? No.

I had always thought Christine would be my one redeeming factor- our love. But now, she was gone, heading back to the Opera House to finish the opera. She was pledging her love to a boy, running away from me. I had once again alienated the one who… not necessarily cared, but could care. The one who might have defended me. With that, a terrible anger filled me as I threw both the stem and crushed petals to the ground. I threw myself from the ground, darting across the roof to climb atop the statue at the corner. Releasing an cry of anguish, I did what I had always done to release my pain, what I did best: sing and threaten.

"_You will curse the day you did not do,_

_All that the Phantom asked of you!"_ I half sang, half screamed, before busting into maniacal laughter. I laughed cruelly before my laughter broke into a sob. Tears streaming, I climbed down from the statue, collapsing at the base, leaning my head back against the cool stone. My angel was gone, long gone, meant to leave after the opera finished. There was nothing I could do but return to the theatre and wait out the opera. I would have to see the damage done.

I pulled myself to my feet, feeling numb. The numbness seemed to soak to my bones, soaking into my core itself. It helped numb the pain, the sadness- everything. It numbed my emotions as I walked to the secret door behind the statue of Apollo, lifting his lyre to the sky. I slowly made my way to the room above the chandelier, looking through the window into the theatre. Most of the audience was still there, despite the mishap. It also appeared as if Buquet's body had been disposed of.

My eyes immediately found my songbird, dressed as the countess as she rightfully should have been. _Yes… as she rightfully should have been in the beginning. If those fools had simply followed my instructions… none of this would've happened,_ I thought before giving off another cry. I slammed my hand against the wood, watching as Christine danced with the pageboy… who was being played by that girl I had rescued earlier. _If only I hadn't saved that girl- Christine wouldn't have turned from me_, I thought in anger before slowly shaking my head.

_No, it's not her fault. She should not be condemned to rape or potentially death for my own faults. Christine had turned from me long before then… long. But there must be a way for me to win her over, _I thought, staring at the stage yet not really seeing the Opera. Shaking my head, I decided my plotting would have to wait for another day. I was simply too tired- too emotionally worn for anything. With a sigh, I leaned forwards, resting my head against the cool metal chain of the chandelier.

_Dear God, if there even is one. What did I do to displease you so? Why did you curse me with his life? Why do you despise me so?_ I found myself asking, eyes raised towards the heavens. I shook my head. _God does not exist… at least not for loathsome, gargoyles such as you,_ a part of me whispered. I leaned against the wood, hanging my head, wondering why the world's cruelties had to fall upon my shoulders. Had I done something in a past life to deserve this?

The audience's applause pulled me from my reverie. Slowly and stiffly, I looked down into the theatre to see the audience standing, Christine curtseying. I grimaced at the sight of the beautiful songbird- the one who betrayed me, as the curtains closed. I had raised her, taught her- I had elevated her to her Prima Donna status. It was all me. And yet, now she would run.

I moved from the service room to the catwalks, carefully making my way to the back of the stage. When I arrived there, I found the company gathered around my managers. I snorted in derision at the irony of the subject. The stagehands, and most the company, were braying for my head, outraged at the death of the loathsome cockroach _Buquet_. I listened to the names and jeers called out by the stagehands, shaking my head at the one manager- Andre's pitiful attempt at restoring order.

"Who else could it be? He's a beast that kills in cold blood!" I heard a stagehand call out, causing me to glare angrily downwards at him. I recognized the brown haired, tall, and green eyed stagehand. He was one of the younger ones. He was new yet strong, handsome (_Unlike myself_), and level-headed… mostly. He had been the stagehand that had been with the girl (_young lady, I _suppose)- the ballet and chorus rat whom I had rescued earlier.

Speaking of the ballet and chorus rat (_Her name… she's friends with my angel, an older sister to her almost… Marie was it?_), she stepped forth then away from the rest of the company to stand before the managers. I listened carefully, trying to catch her words as the rest of the company quieted.

"-it was indeed perpetrated by the illustrious Opera Ghost!" I heard her shout. My anger flared once more as I glared down at the ungrateful wretch. I saved her and this was how she repaid me. I asked nothing but that she keep our meeting secret. I didn't even ask her to clear my name but no, now she must ruin my reputation even further. I vaguely heard one of the manager's call for silence, the company quieting.

"And how would you know this?" I heard one of the managers- Firmin I believe- question her. I waited, wondering what she would say next.

"I know this because I witnessed the act," I heard her speak, loudly and clearly. There was an uproar from the company but I ignored this, my face heating once more in anger as it flared once more. Now she went directly against what I instructed her to do: to not reveal our meeting. Now she flaunted it, possibly using it against me. _All of them. They're all the same. They fear and hate those they don't understand,_ I thought bitterly, glaring downwards. "But it does not mean the act was not justified." I stopped at this, staring down in confusion. It had most certainly been spoken by her. What had she meant by this? _Is she… defending me?_ I wondered, watching the scene. Confused and slightly awestruck, I shifted so I could watch the scene better, wondering exactly how these events would play out. I heard that Andre-character snarl at her, something about murder and justifying it.

"_Murder, _my dear sir, is not justified. _Killing_ can be justified if perpetrated under the appropriate circumstances," she replied almost angrily. "Murder is done in cold blood," she said while I analyzed her. I could see tears spring to her eyes, most likely at the thought of the incident earlier and what could've and almost _did_ happen. _What almost happened… I suppose it was only right I stop it, as I did for that girl in violet years ago. After all, I, a monster, was saved. Why should an innocent not be saved and someone such as I be saved from such a cruel fate?_

"No, indeed it was not. The reason Joseph Buquet was killed is because-because-," the girl said, breaking off as the tears overcame her. She was speechless as the little blonde girl (_Little Giry- Antoinette's daughter_) wrapped an arm around her shoulder, trying to comfort her. I winced at her words, remembering the events of earlier this evening. I regretted being forced to kill Buquet, regretting the fact that it drove my sweet angel from me. I regretted the fact that the poor woman below me had to live through such terrifying and horrible events. "The reason he killed that vile wretch was to save my virtue and possibly my life," she said at last, her voice strong, before she fell to her knees, sobbing.

The entirety of my body stiffened in shock. I truly had not expected her to defend me, the opera ghost. I hadn't expected her to attempt to clear my name- the name of a supposed vile creature, as Buquet had, often, correctly described. _She looked past the rumors unlike Christine,_ a voice whispered in my head. I winced, shrinking away from the voice. True as it was, Christine was an angel. She had seen my face- this woman had not. There was no way to tell if the woman would react the same as my songbird. No, she'd probably react far worse.

I looked down, noticing that the girl had stood once more. She was now describing the events of earlier, about having run into the drunken Buquet. I heard her mention his attempt at her deflowering. More tears leaked from her eyes and she looked up towards the catwalks. For a terrifying second, our eyes connected recognition in her eyes. I stepped back, melting into the shadows- something I was rather good at. A smile played on her eyes, threatening to reach her lips as she looked back towards the company and continuing the story.

There was an uproar then, stagehands demanding to know if she was sure and what I looked like. Was I like Buquet had described? _Yes._ Was I hideous? _Yes._ Was I… handsome? _No, most certainly not. _I continued listening to the questions before something struck me: what would she answer with? Surely everyone must know I was a man by know. Would she give them my description? Would they try and track me down? I would have to hide then and insure that my passageways were blocked…

"It was his wish I peak of none of this to anyone. If respecting his wishes, I should not even be telling you this but I feel he deserves his name to be cleared." I glanced down at her, shock filling my body once more, causing it to stiffen. Again, she surprised me. "I shall, therefore, respect his wishes and say no more than necessary."

_Respect. She'd respect me._ Respect was a concept relatively foreign to me, yet something I yearned for. The current owners most certainly did not respect me. The prior owners had feared me, not respected me, something I had realized early on and used to my advantage. _Respect._ It was something I had always yearned for, wishing for acceptance, love, and respect. Someone who could accept me, who could respect me, and who could possibly respect me. _Christine never respected you… she respected her Angel who she learned to be a monster… never you,_ a voice whispered traitorously once more. "Whose side are you on?" I accidentally whispered aloud to the voice.

"-just as a Phantom would. I believe him to be neither beast nor monster, nor even wretch but just that: a Phantom or ghost waiting in the shadows, trying his best to do right by this opera house." I stopped at that, moving forwards to look better at her. I felt tears slide slowly down my face. She thought of me not as a beast, monster, or wretch. She knew I was no Phantom or ghost, but a man. She still protected, defending my image so to protect me. She also thought of me… almost as good. She thought I was working for the good of the opera house (_which I am_). _She doesn't understand the monster in you yet,_ a voice whispered, causing me to wince as a few more tears slid down my face. _She thinks of you as a man though- something Christine never did._ I winced away as the pain filled me once more, thinking of my songbird's betrayal.

More tears slid down my face. It was then I realized she was looking at me and I retreated to the shadows. I winced again at the pain, thinking of Christine. She betrayed me, denied me, and was now running from me. _She can't look past your face. Don't be fooled. This girl is no different. She would run at the first sight of your face_, a part of me whispered as I silently whimpered at the pain. Christine despised me. This girl would surely be no different. The world despised me- they despised me for something I could not control.

"While it may not be my place to say so, I believe that his commands ought not to be ignored any longer." I stood up at this, the tears freezing in their tracks down my face. Now she was indirectly telling the managers off for ignoring my commands. Hardening my resolve and once more cutting off my emotions, I pulled out a slip of parchment and spare quill, quickly scrawling a message across it. I slipped the note into an envelope with the wax seal already on the top. Lighting a match in the shadows I quickly heated the wax enough so it could cling to the other side of the envelope before blowing the match out. "I think he deserves more credit and respect than… current people give him," she said before looking towards the managers.

Many murmurs of agreement followed this statement to which I almost smirked in amusement- almost. I watched as members of the company turned to each other, whispering, and glancing at the managers. I heard the woman announce of her retiring, seemingly about to walk away, before I dropped the note. I watched it flutter down to her. She caught it I her hand, staring at it. One of the managers requested she read it aloud.

"_Fondest greetings to you all,_

_ I do hope that mademoiselle Dupoint has cleared any lingering doubts of the… unfortunate series of events to occur tonight. I thank her for mostly respecting my wish. It shall also be noted the kindness and loyalty she has shown me tonight._

_ I also sincerely hope she has convinced my managers that their place is in the office and not the arts. It is high time they respect that the commands I set forth re for the well-being of this Opera House_

_ For now, I leave you with this. Further instruction shall be sent at a later time and date," _I whispered as she spoke aloud to the company, singing some of the words. I glanced down as she finished to see her staring across from her.

Follower her gaze, my eyes befell Christine. She was staring upwards in my general direction. I could tell she couldn't see me as her eyes darted around. I glared as the boy placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to spin and flee. The boy was not far behind her, and Mademoiselle Dupoint not far behind them.

I winced once more at the thought of my songbird's betrayal. I fell to my knees, holding my abdomen as if to stop the pain. "Why?" I whispered, staring down as the company and managers whispered to each other, Little Meg Giry skirting closer to her mother out of nervousness. I ignored all of this, as my anger flared, the pain unbearable. _How do hold it together? How… to work._ I decided as I stood, my resolve set. I watched as Madame Giry parted from the group, heated towards Christine's dressing room, in pursuit of the others. I sneered slightly at that, thinking of the boy and of the betrayal. _Don't think of that- think of work,_ I thought as I walked across the catwalks back towards the service room for the chandelier. Yes, work is what I needed. I needed to plunge myself into _Don Juan Triumphant_. It would help to ease the pain and maybe… just maybe I could use it to get Christine back.

Smirking slightly at the thought, plans springing into my mind, I moved to the secret door that led to the roof, moving a panel of the wall aside and stepping into the dark, dank corridor behind it. It wasn't lit and I did not have a torch with me but it mattered not. I had long grown accustomed to minimal to no light whatsoever. I could perfectly see in the dark, like a cat, with my sensitive and well-trained eyes.

I moved quickly through the corridor, headed towards the passage behind the mirror in Christine's dressing room. The corridor behind her mirror was the most direct and perhaps safest route to my home (_lair is the term you are looking for_). And, perhaps, if I was quick enough, I would chance one last glance at my sweet songbird before she left for an indefinite period of time.

I stopped then at the thought. _An indefinite period of time…_ Well, there had been no set term as for how long she'd be one. Perhaps she'd never come back. _Oh, she will, and when she does, I'll be ready to reclaim my love from that troublesome, insolent, ignorant boy!_ I thought this as I continued walking, smirking slightly. I would be ready but until the time where the gaping, new hole in my heart healed, I would throw myself into my work. After that I could think of a plan. I stopped when I at last came to the corridor behind Christine's dressing room.

"You have a wonderful voice, Marie. I'm sure you could suffice until they find a new soprano," I heard her say as I ran towards the mirror, wondering who she was talking to. I watched as Christine and Mademoiselle Dupoint (_So Marie is her name…_) stared at each other from opposite sides of the room. My heart seemed to break slightly at the sight of my breathtakingly beautiful angel. "Goodbye, Marie. I'll see you at the ball," she whispered before running out the door, the boy taking the bags before the fled.

I stood there, staring into the room at the spot that Christine had vacated. It was my last glimpse of her… for a while at least. I did get my answer though. She would return- she would come to the ball. I would have to be ready by the ball then. The pain started creeping up again despite my attempts to shut my emotions off. _I must go work… perhaps I can use my work to my advantage,_ I thought, about to turn away when Madame Giry darted into the room.

I stopped then, my curiosity getting the best of me, and I turned back, trying my best to ignore the pain and the tears that pricked at my eyes.

"Marie. Where has Christine gone?" she asked Mademoiselle Dupoint carefully, who was shaking the tears from her eyes. I had to do the same as her since Madame Giry's blunt reminder caused the pain to creep up again, as well as the tears.

"She's left. Run off with Raoul (_that must be the boy's name_). She's scared the Phantom will harm her. He's her tutor (_how did she learn that? Christine most likely_), Madame! It's been him all along. She's run off and dear lord, how she's betrayed him," she said, pain in her voice. I stopped, wincing at the reminder, and angry at her tone towards Christine but… I was curious. The pain was for me, the anger for me. She was upset and hurt for _my _sake. "I'm sorry, Madame, for appearing to speak badly of Christine but oh how she's repaid him for his hard work over the years." It was silent after that. The anger in me seemed to die down at her apology as we al thought over things. So she was upset for my sake, upset at how I had been repaid. _Why?_

"Who shall sing now, Madame? Christine's gone and Carlotta's no doubt run off (_not that we'll miss her_). What're we to do?" she asked, staring at the wall. I saw Madame Giry stare at the ground in contemplation, wondering the same thing. It caused me to pause then as well. Yes, who would sing now? I had finally run off Carlotta as well as my songbird. Who would take the mantle now?

"I'm not sure, Marie. Christine and Meg have always claimed you had a decent voice," Madame Giry suggested, causing me to raise an eyebrow. If Christine agree that Mademoiselle Dupoint had a good voice, it must be true. Christine would recognize talent. Perhaps her voice could be enough… perhaps with a little training it could carry this opera house. _Why go there again, especially after the last student you took on? Only actually… besides the point, it'll just end in disaster._

"I'm sorry, Madame Giry, but I can't. I'm not all that good, trust me. W need to find someone- and soon," Mademoiselle Dupoint replied, causing Madame Giry to nod. She glanced towards the mirror and I knew then that she was aware of my presence. She nodded again, her eyes flashing in question as if she knew I'd see her and receive the message. She thought Marie would be suitable for now and… was she wondering or asking if I would intervene? Marie also glanced at the mirror in confusion before turning to look back at Madame Giry.

"I must leave, Marie. For now, you shall have to suffice. If you please, move your bags into this room. It's the first available dressing room," Madame Giry said before leaving the room. I stopped for a minute, thinking. What if I did take her on as a student? How bad could it be? _Don't be ridiculous- the last one betrayed you and now fears you._ I nodded at that. _Ah, yes, but this one knows there is no Angel of Music. There will be no pretense. She'll already know what she is dealing with. She respects me- it could work. _I snorted slightly at that. _Yes but you fell in love with the last one. This one won't replace her. _I nodded at that. _But it's for the good of the opera and I know that. It'll help to distract me, training someone. Maybe this will be a chance at my redemption._ I stopped at that, suddenly realizing I was having a conversation with myself. _Genius really does turn into madness,_ I thought as I turned away. I wasn't sure of my decision when-

"_No more talk of darkness, _

_Forget these wide-eyed fears,_

_He claims, nothing can harm her, _

_He'll guard her and he'll guide her."_

She sang rather beautifully, to the same tune as earlier. I winced at the painfully familiar tune before stopping to admire her voice. It was pure, not rough like Christine's had been at the start, and her voice was simply beautiful. I could hear that the high note was slightly off and there were improvements to be made but her voice was, naturally, very beautiful. _More so than Christine's was even a month ago._ I stopped at that thought, contemplating it. She had never had lessons and the potential for her voice was far greater than Christine even.

"_He says the day will free her,_

_That night will only cause her tears._

_He's there, He's there beside her,_

_To steal her and to hide her." _

I listened to her sing the last line before she stopped, bowing her head and leaning up against the mirror which I only just realized she was standing in front of. I watched her closely, staring into her tearful green eyes as she stared, unknowingly, back at me. My resolve was steeled then, by her voice, hopeless expression, and her (apparent) dislike for Raoul at the moment. I would train her into an amazing soprano (perhaps better than Christine even). It would take my mind off both my songbird's departure and would, perhaps, give me new muse for _Don Juan Triumphant_. It would allow me company- I wouldn't be alone. I would be giving lessons and they would have to be face to face as she'd never believe any other story. She'd know it was me.

"Dear lord, what am I to do?" She asked herself aloud, causing me to smirk slightly as she leaned her head against the mirror once more. I watched her eyes flick back and forth for a minute. They went wide at one thought and she looked thoroughly stressed, her hand reaching up to trail down the length of her back. It was then I decided to make my presence known.

"_Brava, Brava,"_ I quietly sung, throwing my voice around the room as if to come from the corner near the door. She straightened, jumping slightly as she stared into the mirror. Her eyes flicked around as she scanned the room through he mirror.

"Monsieur Le Fantome?" She asked quietly, causing me to silently chuckle before remembering the cause of me doing this- Christine's flight.

"Yes?" I asked painfully with a hint of amusement as I threw my voice once more, causing it to sound from behind her. She spun around and I quickly yet quietly opened the mirror, stepping out to stand behind her. She glanced around before turning to look back at the mirror. She jumped, yelping slightly when her gaze befell me, and she tripped, falling. I reached out, on instinct to grab her hand, pulling her back up so she was steady before releasing. Her face turned red as she smiled in embarrassment, brushing her dress off of invisible dust.

"I apologize, Monsieur. You… startled me," she said, pausing slightly, as she took a step backwards. I raised an eyebrow, wondering why she did that. Was she scared of me? Was it instinct to shy away and not be close to men? Perhaps it was an extent of the events of tonight. I took a large step towards her in amusement, wondering how she reacted. I towered over her.

I watched as she forced herself to keep from moving. She raised her eyes to stare into mine. A certain wonderment came into her eyes as she thought, contemplating something unknown to me. Her eyes crinkled slightly in pain. She seemed to see something in my eyes, some emotion that I had been hoping to hide, for she lowered her eyes. I smirked at that before slowly starting to stalk around her, sizing her up as she was deep in thought.

She seemed to come out of her thoughts and she blinked repeatedly when she noticed I was now circling her. I analyzed her breathing, proper, deep, and barely visible. Her breathing technique seemed to be good for a singer and her stance was good as well. She stood upright as is proper, head tilted downwards slightly. I raised an eyebrow at that, knowing that it was a sign of a lack of confidence. Her shoulders also hunched in ever so slightly when she realized I was circling her- another sign of a lack of confidence. That lack of confidence was something I would train out of her. When I was finished, she would be a confident young lady, as well as an excellent soprano.

"You do not give yourself enough credit," I said, stopping behind her as she stared straight ahead into the dark passage that lay behind the mirror. It was the passage that I would use to return to my world of unending shadow.

"I am confused as to what you mean, monsieur," she told him softly, a hint of confusion in her voice. She was both lacking confidence in her statement as well as confused as to what I meant. I smirked at that.

"You do, indeed, have a lovely voice mademoiselle. It is most certainly sufficient to carry the opera house until such a time when a trained soprano and take up the spot of Prima Donna," I replied, watching her smile and blush. She was obviously unused to compliments, something that was good as my compliments were relatively rare. She shifted her weight to stand up straight, something I was glad for. It meant that with those rare, fleeting compliments, her confidence would grow as well. "I do, however, have a proposition to make you," I continued, stopping in front of her, smirking. She frowned at this, contemplating something, and I began to slowly circle her once more.

"What is this proposition you speak of?" she asked, causing me to smirk once more wondering about her once more. She didn't seem scared or intimidated by me like most of the others. It was a rather curious and… almost relaxing or soothing behavior. For once, someone _didn't_ fear me. Even Christine feared me. _Stop. Don't think of that._

"I come with an offer to tutor you. I shall train your voice to a point of excellence. You shall rival, if not surpass, Christine Daae even. The potential your voice has is great," I told her, stopping behind her. The make-up on her neck caught my eye, causing me to pause for a second. There was a small, thin bump running the length of her neck. Passing it off as unevenly applied make-up, I continued to circle her.

"But…?" she questioned. I couldn't contain the almost dark chuckle as I walked back around to stand in front of her, close enough to touch. I considered her question before continuing my slow circling.

"There are, of course, a few requirements you must meet," I told her as I disappeared from her sight. She nodded, shifting her weight in discomfort or out of nervousness before nodding. Taking it as a sign to continue, I stopped by her side. "Firstly, you are to meet me here every night at seven o'clock, sharp, for lessons," I told her, speaking into her ear before moving to stand behind her. "Secondly, when I call for you, you must come," I told her, the hairs on her neck standing up from my proximity to her.

"When you call me?" she asked, requesting an explanation. It was an explanation I would give her.

"If you hear my song, voice, or simply my call, you must come make the journey down to my… home," I said eventually. I most likely should have said lair. I shook myself from my thoughts before continuing. "Should you agree to the proposition, I shall show you the way," I told her before moving to stand behind her. "Thirdly, you may not court for the duration of our lessons," I whispered into her right ear. _Why give her this proposition? What do I care if she courts? It's not as if it'll matter to me. It will be a distraction though._ "Not only shall it distract you but I don't appreciate having men grope my students," I continued, pondering the last part. Well, as she would be the only company I would have for a few months I would… inevitably develop a… fondness for her as a student and teacher would. "Fourthly, you shall listen to my instructions. Anything I request you do or if I request you practice, you shall do it. Is this understood?" I asked, stopping in front of her.

"Yes monsieur. I do have a clarification. When you say 'anything I request you do', do you simply mean music related or _anything_?" She asked hesitantly. I mentally smirked at this, keeping my face carefully blank of emotion.

"Anything that pertains to music, that is," I clarified for her, watching her nod. "Any other questions?" I asked her, pausing slightly.

"No monsieur," she replied carefully, causing me to frown. Though I relished in the respect she was showing me, I hated that I was being called 'monsieur'. Firstly, it made me sound old and I had a certain aversion to it. It was a sign of respect and a monster such as I deserve no respect, no matter how I yearn for it.

"Then I shall take your answer now, mademoiselle, unless you need more time to consider your options," I told her, holding my hand out. I could see the hesitation in her eyes as I subconsciously willed her to take my hand. I was hoping she would accept. I was yearning for a new purpose. With Christine gone, my nights would be empty and purposeless, nothing to look forward to for three months other than my opera. Even as I love my music dearly, I would get restless, needing company, needing someone to know I existed- someone, anyone who would notice my absence.

"I accept your proposition, monsieur," she told me after one agonizingly long minute as she placed her small, delicate hand in mine. Smirking slightly, I slowly stepped back, guiding her through the mirror's frame and into the hallway leading down to my dark world of night.

**A/N: So this is the fourth chapter, finally uploaded! I'm sorry it took so long but I am located on Long Island and, as you all know, we were hit hard by hurricane Sandy. I didn't get power back until Friday, was a little busy this weekend, and didn't get the chance to even write this chapter until today. It's been really bad here with everything going on and some of these stories in the papers are just terrible. I am just so thankful that my family is safe and there was no damage to our house and only poles and trees down around our neighborhood.**

**Anyways, this chapter is rather long (11 pages on word) and around 6k in length. I'm actually rather proud of the way this came out. There are things I could fix but, over all, I like how Erik's POV turned out. I think I covered his pain and emotions relatively well though the last part he seems a little detached. I might revise this chapter later. In case anyone was wondering, I actually chose the name for this title since, if you think of it, after this point in the story, the Angel of Music is dead to Christine. She see's him as the Phantom, not her beloved Angel. Though there are still nostalgic feelings later in the movie, in this fanfiction, this is pretty much were Christine's Angel ends. He will now be the Phantom (or possibly Erik) to her.**

**I'm going to bump the reviews up to five for an update, just so that I have more time to prepare the chapter beforehand. You guys are so great you deserve the chapter to be updated when it hits five. Again, remember to review (keeping that in mind while reading) and even if it hits five, don't let that stop you from reviewing! I love hearing your reviews!**

**So the next chapter will follow Marie's journey to Erik's lair, a little student-teacher bonding time, a little heart-to-heart, and the beginning of their lessons. Also, if you ever want me to do a chapter in Erik's POV, let me know! I actually enjoyed doing one in Erik's POV. It allowed me to put myself into someone else's mind rather than my own (since Marie is largely based off my own personality and how I would react to these things). **

**Well, that's it for this annoyingly long author's note! I will hopefully update the other stories soon (if any of you are following them). I just need to write those chapters. Again, enjoy and please review! Criticism is greatly appreciated and (as all of you know) helps aspiring writers. Also, if you see any mistakes, let me know!**

**~Nikki3**


	6. Down Once More

**A/N: So this is the fifth chapter which I finally uploaded! Don't yell at me! I am so sorry that it took so long to get this uploaded but I've been busy with school. Junior year can be a little tough and school always comes first in my life. Again, sorry but I just had a lot of school work to do. Thankfully, since it is winter break, I will hopefully be able to update more (hint hint) and perhaps even finish the second chapter for 'Know Thine Adversary' and get that uploaded.**

**So, this chapter follows Marie's journey to Erik's lair! It's a short chapter, which I apologize for, but I have the next chapter already written out. Since I was so late in uploading, three reviews gets the new update. So, enjoy!**

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I stopped once I crossed the threshold and watched in amazement as the mirror slid back into place, revealing the room that I knew lay on the opposite side of the glass. It must've been a two-way mirror of sorts, or something like it. I turned back to see him watching me as we slowly started walking down the hallway, the torches moving of their own accord as we weaved between them. We followed multiple hallways just like this and I admired the architecture and design of the place- one only a genius such as he could create.

"_I think it's beautiful,_

_Beautiful, beautiful sights,_

_Beautiful, beautiful ploys,_

_Don't you agree?_

_It's beautiful,_

_So splendidly beautiful,_

_A world that reaches my soul,_

_So lovely, genius, and bold."_

I sang to him as we reached a beautiful black horse. We stopped and he helped me climb on top. I lightly stroked the horse's mane as I sang. It was just something about his world that touched me so deeply. There was something in the architecture that hinted at loneliness and sorrow yet sang and rang of pure genius and beauty. The entirety of his domain was beautiful, like a work of art. I watched him stiffen at my words before he turned to me, his eyes clouded over with many emotions.

"I have much to show you, then," he replied quietly to my song. As he started to guide the horse, it was as if I started to hear music fill my head- music that I knew deep in my bones wasn't there. My mind said it wasn't, but my heart said it was. As if on cue, the Phantom began to sing.

"_Have you ever yearned to go_

_Past the world you think you know?_

_Been enthralled to the call_

_Of the beauty underneath?"_

He sang with a voice so beautiful and pure that, if I hadn't known better, I would have been misled like Christine had and believed it belonged to that of an angel. The raw emotion that filled his voice as he sang was astounding and nearly overwhelming. I felt that, if it weren't for the horse I was riding, I might've have fallen to the ground from being weak at the knees. The song he himself was singing was filled with deeper meaning.

"_Have you let it draw you in?_

_Past the place where dreams begin?_

_Felt the full breathless pull_

_Of the beauty underneath?_

_When the dark unfolds its wings_

_Do you sense the strangest things?_

_Things no one would ever guess_

_Things mere words cannot express?"_

He continued to sing and I instantly thought of his mask. _"Yes,"_ I sang in response as if by instinct as I stared down at his mask. What could it hide?

"_Do you find yourself beguiled_

_By the dangerous and wild?_

_Do you feed on the need_

_For the beauty underneath?_

_Have you felt your senses served_

_And surrendered to the urge?_

_Have been hooked as you looked _

_At the beauty underneath?_

_When you stare behind the night_

_Can you glimpse its primal might?_

_Might you hunger to possess,_

_Hunger that you can't repress?"_

He sang as we dismounted the horse. I was then reminded of what exactly Christine had said lay under the mask. _A face so horrid it was hardly a face at all._ Surely however bad his face was, it could never override the beauty I sensed within him.

"_Yes,_

_It seems so beautiful,_

_So remarkably beautiful,_

_Everything's just as she said,"_

I sang to him in return, watching him breathe in deeply as we walked a ways down the hallway towards what I assume was a lake. I was, again, wondering how horrid the face under the mask could be. I doubted that it could scare me away from him, even if it was comparable to that of one of the skeletons in the great catacombs of the city.

"_She's so very beautiful,_

_She says it's beautiful,_

_Can she possibly accept me?_

_I doubt it could ever be,_

_Yet we both see"_

He sang in response as we reached the boat and he helped me climb in. I couldn't help but stare in wonder at him. Did he know what it was like to have music playing in his head, constantly, yet never knowing how to release it?

"_Is there music in your head?_

_Have you followed where it led?_

_And been graced with a taste_

_Of the beauty underneath?_

_Does it fill your every sense?_

_Is it terribly intense?_

_Tell me you need it too_

_Need the beauty underneath!"_

I sang in return to him as he pushed the boat off and we started to row across the lake. I knew he was a genius but was he a composer and songwriter such as I? If so, which instrument(s) did he play? Did he play the Piano and Organ like my father and I, or did he play the violin like my mother and I?

"_When it lifts its voice and sings_

_Don't you feel amazing things?_

_Things you know you can't confess,_

_Things you thirst for nonetheless."_

We sang together as he continued rowing. Did he sometimes feel as if it was so overwhelming that he needed to just release the music within? I remarked over the deep lyrics we both sung and I knew, looking at him, that there was beauty underneath.

"_You're so beautiful," _I sang to him quietly with a small smile.

"_Can it be?" _ He sang in return.

"_Almost too beautiful,"_ I replied.

"_Do you see what I see?" _We sang together before he started to sing once more.

"_To her I'm beautiful,_

_My world is beautiful._

_How can she think this of me?"_

He sang, causing my heart to swell. His voice, music, and home- everything was beautiful. Everything about him and more was heartbreakingly so. How anyone could let his face, no matter how hideous, hide away such beauty? He was lonely, just looking for companionship and acceptance, and yet all shunned him! How could they not see the beauty underneath?

"_All of my most secret dreams,_

_Somehow set free!"_

We sang to each other before he started once more.

"_You can feel the lift,"_

"_Yes,"_

"_Come closer"_

"_Yes,"_

"_You've no fear of the beauty underneath._

_You can face it,"_

"_Yes,"_

"_You can take it,"_

"_Yes,"_

"_You see through to the beauty underneath._

_To the splendor,"_

He sang as we passed under a gate. I watched in awe as candles started to rise up from the water, obviously powered by it, and we entered his lair. It was amazing and beautiful. His organ sat on a raised platform, standing out proudly. I looked around in awe at all the sheet music, wondering what his inspiration was as I sang, echoing him.

"_Splendor,"_

"_And the glory,"_

"_And the glory,"_

"_To the truth of the beauty underneath,"_

"_The beauty underneath,"_

"_You'll accept it,"_

"_Yes,"_

"_You'll embrace it,"_

"_Yes,"_

"_Let me show you the beauty underneath,"_

He sang the last phrase as the boat brushed up against the sand, the water too shallow to continue, and he leapt from the boat. He turned back to me and helped lift me from the boat before pacing away to continue singing.

"_To the splendor,"_

"_Splendor,"_

"_And the glory"_

"_And the glory,"_

"_To the truth of the beauty underneath,"_

"_The beauty underneath,"_

I echoed him as he took his cloak off with a swish, carefully draping it on a chair, and turned back to face me. He started to slowly stalk closer to me as he sang.

"_You'll accept it,"_

"_Yes,"_

"_You'll embrace it,"_

"_Yes,"_

I replied, my curiosity starting to win out. What was under the mask? Who was the man behind the mask?

"_Let me show you the beauty underneath,"_ He sang as he finally reached me, his hand reaching up towards his mask. I however, beat him to it, and yanked the mask off.

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**A/N: Well, there we go! That was chapter five! The next chapter is a bit of bonding and heart to heart between Erik and Marie. Again, three reviews means an update! **

**Again, sorry it was so short but I hope you enjoyed it! Remember to review because I love criticism! It makes an author stronger!**

**~Nikki3**


	7. Learn to be Lonely

_**A/N: Well, three reviews was easily hit yesterday so I updated! Remember, this is her reaction and their first lesson! Enjoy!**_

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The minute the mask left his face, he flinched away, wincing. I caught a glimpse of the marred and twisted skin. It was blotchy and red, swollen ridiculously so. There were also parts of his jaw where the skin was missing and the muscle was flaking off. Some parts the muscle flaked so despairingly so that the bone beneath was revealed. Before I got to really look, he turned away and walked over to a mirror to stare sadly into it. He covered his face with his hand, in shame, as if expecting me to be terrified.

In truth, I honestly felt no fear towards him. This was the same man who had saved my life and virtue earlier. He was also the same man who had been betrayed by Christine and the same man who had offered to help me. I could never feel fear towards him.

Repulsion was a different story. Almost immediately from the glance of the jaw bone, I felt a rare repulsion within me. I thought, for a minute, that the bile rising in the back of my throat just might make an appearance but I choked it down. I couldn't hurt him like that. It would kill him.

Closing my eyes, I made myself a promise that I would deal with the face. I would become used to it and accept him for who he is. Every bit of him, even if that meant his face. He had such inner beauty- I was convinced of it. And, in that moment, I pushed away any repulsion and a strange wonderment came over me.

He and I were similar, both having scars from our childhood (though his were more extreme), and we both had music running through our heads. He and I were similar in a sense, both night creatures. And as one knows, people of the night tend to stick together. He and I were similar and no face would change that.

At that moment, when I left all repulsion for his face behind, a wonderment and curiosity filling its place, he started to pace away from me. His back facing me, he began to sing in a tone filled with such deep sorrow that any lingering doubts concerning his face left me with such haste.

"_Stranger than you dreamt it_

_Can you even dare to look_

_Or bear to think of me?_

_This loathsome gargoyle_

_Who burns in hell_

_But secretly years for heaven_

_Secretly, secretly,"_

He sang before turning to look at me. He stopped in shock and surprise at the expression of sympathy showing on my face. It was, I could assume, a far cry from the fear that must've shown on everyone's face. I knew, for a fact, that even Christine had not been able to muster any other emotions than fear and repulsion at his face.

"Y-You… You don't fear me?" he stammered slightly as he stared at me. I smiled slightly at him, glancing down at the mask before looking back to look him in the eyes.

"_The beauty underneath,"_ I sang in an echoing voice as I slowly shook my head in response to his question. I watched him crumple and sit down on one of the steps, crying softly.

"_Fear can turn to love, You'll learn to see- To find the man, Behind the monster, this…" _He sang before trailing off, unable to continue. I walked slowly to him, so not to startle him. When he looked up into my eyes and I slowly shook my head.

"Not a monster," I said to him softly, "or repulsive, or a beast." He gave another silent whimper as he broke down slightly. I knew then that it must've been an especially emotionally trying day on him. After all, He had saved me, Christine had run off with Raoul, I had shown him kindness and cleared his name, something he was not used to, and now I showed it to him yet again when I didn't fear his face. _"To the splendor, and the glory, to the truth of the beauty underneath," _I sang to him before sitting down on the step a little ways away from him.

"You have a beautiful voice," he whispered softly. "Sing something for me… please," he almost begged. I smiled softly at him as I stood, leaving the mask discarded on the step. I wondered, at first, what to sing but I needn't wonder long. Before I knew it, music started playing through my head and the words and song just came to me.

"_Child of the wilderness,_

_Born into emptiness,_

_Learn to be lonely,_

_Learn to find you way in darkness,"_

I sang to him, watching as he looked up in shock. I gave him a soft smile as his crying started to slowly subside.

"_Who will be there for you?_

_Comfort and care for you_

_Learn to be lonely_

_Learn to be your one companion_

_Never dreamed out in the world_

_There are arms to hold you_

_You've always known_

_Your heart was on its own"_

I sang softly, knowing there was no way I could mess the song up as the sweet music came to me from the deep recesses of my mind. Whatever the song was, it was working his magic. I could see him start to slowly relax to the music. I closed my eyes and continued to sing, allowing the music to fill and flow through me.

"_So laugh in your loneliness_

_Child of the wilderness_

_Learn to be lonely_

_Learn how to love life that is lived alone_

_Learn to be lonely_

_Life can be lived,_

_Life can be loved,_

_Alone"_

I finished the song and held the last sweet note before opening my eyes to see him standing before me, his mask back in place. He seemed once more his calm and confident self. There were no traces of the man that had been there only moments before. I could still see though the sorrow and loneliness in his eyes. It seemed as if the music had taken the smallest edge off his haunted pain filled eyes.

"Brava," he said softly before looking around his domain and gesturing wildly, his confident persona once more intact in its entirety. "That was a very beautiful song. Where did you learn it from?"

"It just was a song playing through my head. It just came to me as music I sing or play normally does," I told him. He nodded before moving to walk up the steps and stand near his organ.

"_I have brought you, _

_To the seat of sweet music's throne, _

_To this kingdom where all must _

_Pay homage to music… Music. _

_You have come here, _

_For one purpose, and one alone. _

_Since the moment I first heard you sing, _

_I have needed you with me, _

_To serve me, to sing, _

_For my music… My music,"_

He sang quietly and I was once again awestruck at the beauty once more. His voice seemed even more beautiful now than before when we had been singing on the way down to his home. I vaguely remembered him telling me I would need to remember the path. He stood there, staring down at me in mute silence before seeming to awaken from his deep thoughts.

"Shall we begin with our lesson then, Mademoiselle?" He asked quietly, his voice sounding amused. I was once again awestruck at the beauty of his voice. It was musical yet soft like velvet.

"Marie," I said absently. When he raised an eyebrow, I hastened to finish the thought. "I mean, if you would please call me that. I've never liked being called by the formal and 'mademoiselle' sounds far too formal." He smirked at that before bowing his head slightly and raising it once more.

"If that is what you wish… Marie," he obliged. He frowned slightly and an expression of deep thought returned to his face.

"Thank you, Monsieur," I said to him, giving him a nod of courtesy. He shook his head, his expression once more cleared. He studied me for a few moments before he spoke.

"As you are my student now, the formal does seem to be a tad much," he obliged and I looked curiously at him.

"Then what would you wish I call you, Monsieur?" I asked him, wondering if he had a name.

"Erik… my name is Erik Destler. Please call me Erik," he said at last and I nodded and cocked my head slightly to the side.

"Erik Destler… it's a rather nice name, Erik," I told him quietly to which he nodded.

"Thank you," he obliged before moving to his organ and frowning slightly. "I think we should first start on your pitch work. Let's begin by using this song," he told me as he lifted a stack of sheet music, taking on of the copies and placing it at the piano next to the organ before handing me the other copy. I looked at the song to see it was '_Think of Me_', the aria that featured in the third act of Hannibal. I smiled fondly, remembering Christine's first performance which had been truly marvelous, and it was all because of the man sitting at the piano before me. "Are you familiar with the song?" He asked.

"Yes I am. I helped Christine practice the day of the performance," I told him quietly. He nodded.

"Whenever you're ready, Marie," he told me to which I nodded. When I was ready, I gave him the go-ahead and he began to play once more.

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_**A/N: I know, it's another relatively short chapter. I hope I did it justice though and didn't completely screw it up!**_

_**Secondly, the next chapter will jump to a month later, well into their lessons, and one month closer to the Masquerade. Everything will be building up to it. What will happen there? We'll just have to see.**_

_**Lastly, I think I'll do anywhere from 5-7 reviews for the next update since I have to edit the next chapter. **_

_**I hope you enjoyed and remember to review!**_


	8. Two Lost Souls

**A/N: Let me start off by saying that I am so sorry to have kept you all waiting. I probably should have posted an author's note long before now. I'm sorry but I honestly am not very good at managing my time and between all the tutoring I'm doing, I am struggling to find time to write. I finally finished this chapter (though I really ought to be doing my research paper but oh well). I am so sorry for such the long wait. I'm not sure when I'll update again since it's back to school on the first and it's crunch time. The AP exams are soon upon me and whatever time I did have will be severely shortened. I'll try my best to update**

**Anyways, in the story, a month has passed since where I last left off. We are well into their lessons. So please remember a full month has passed, bringing us a month closer to the masquerade. I hope you don't think things are progressing too quickly but I don't really want this story to be too long. If needed, once the story is completed, I may go back and add chapters to describe the events I am skipping.**

**At any rate, enjoy the long awaited and belated chapter!**

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It had been a month since I had first met Erik and we had started our lessons. There had been quite an obvious improvement in my voice, so much so that the managers, Madame Giry, and Monsieur Reyer had appointed me to be the Prima Donna. They were giving up their search for any other soprano. I was officially the lead. They weren't the only ones to notice the improvement. Meg and Erik had as well, both complimenting me on my improvement. Meg was, however, starting to become suspicious. I fended off her questions with the simple answer that I had just been practicing nightly.

A lot had happened in the month that had passed. I had premiered in three major operas. I had had to perform the second night of _Il Muto_, which had been so loved by the crowd that it was also performed the following week as well. _Hannibal_ had made a reappearance the week after. The opera we had been performing the past two weeks was _Faust_. All three operas I had been wonderful in, or at least that's what Erik had said.

The crowd, indeed, loved me and the box sales had gone up recently. Nearly every night I had sang there had been a full house, something I was rather impressed with. The sales were by far, better than Carlotta's for the first month of the season as well as Christine, the managers had said. Then again, Christine hadn't really gotten much of a chance to sing, debuting in _Hannibal_ before she disappeared and Carlotta took her place.

The excellent performance and build up of my repertoire hadn't been the only thing to happen over the past weeks. The nights with Erik had passed wonderfully as well. Every night we practiced for two hours, some nights being lessons and others being extra practice sessions for the next night's opera. Of course, there were some nights we didn't have time for lessons, such as nights I had performed.

On such nights, we would make the journey to his home and spend an hour or so having tea. It was something we did every night after a performance or lessons. We had started the tea time the first week I had been taking lessons. We would spend the hour having amiable chitchat, content as we learned the likes and dislikes of each other. Sometimes we would spend a portion of the time in companionable silence. Erik was one of my few friends, the others being Meg, Christine, Charles, and Raoul.

We also discussed other things as well. One thing we discussed a lot was the opera Erik had been working on, _Don Juan_. The opera was his pride and joy and something he had been working on for many years. He was especially excited the past month since it was almost finished. He estimated that it would be done by the time of the Masquerade Ball, an event that was just a few months away. I had asked him to play a bit of it for me multiple times but each time I asked, he was adamant that it would remain a surprise until the day his opera premiered in his opera house.

The opera house itself had been another popular topic. The managers had, as of late, seemed to have learned to follow the directions of the Opera Ghost. The few commands or helpful suggestions Erik had given them over the past weeks had been met with success. The suggestions at each performance had steadily improved the orchestra, ballet, and chorus, returning the Opera Populaire to its glory and prestige.

"A good session tonight, Marie. Your voice has seen quite an improvement," Erik complimented to which I blushed slightly at. It was the end of yet another lesson with Erik. I still blushed at his compliments, still unused to the fact that someone was complimenting me on anything other than my dancing. "Please remember to practice at some point tonight or tomorrow morning," he added to which I nodded.

"Thank you, Erik, and I will," I told him. He was currently putting the sheet music away while I examined both his organ and piano. Both were in excellent condition. It was obvious he took the utmost care of them. "Your piano and organ are lovely," I complimented him to which he nodded before looking at me curiously. "I used to have both when I was younger. I've visited the piano room many times and I've played the organ for Monsieur Reyer a bit. I'm afraid I may be out of practice," I explained to him, giving a wry smile.

"How often do you play?" He asked me quietly. I gave another wry smile, looking away. While few had heard me sing, none had heard me play… alive, that is.

"Every night, or at least I try to," I told him quietly. It had been a bit more difficult with his lessons nightly but I managed to squeeze it in before rehearsals in the morning. He frowned slightly as if thinking of something before seeming to shrug it off and respond.

"It's odd… I've never heard you play. I would've thought…," he said, trailing off before he sighed and continued, "but I've been obsessed with Christine from the moment she arrived. I'm sure you play beautifully," he complimented to which I blushed, again, for the previous reasons.

"I, I don't think I'm _that_ good," I assured him but he shook his head and motioned his hand towards the instruments, silently requesting I play for him.

I sat down at the piano, glancing over my shoulder nervously at him. He gave a short and curt nod so I turned around and placed my hands on the keys. I wondered what I should play before I closed my eyes and let the music fill me once more. I began to play, a short yet sweet medley coming forth from the piano as the same notes played within my head. The notes were trapped, begging to be freed, and the piano was my outlet, freeing the trapped music.

"What was that?" Erik asked when I had finished playing. I stood up and moved away from the piano. I gave another wry smile before answering.

"Is there music in your head, have you followed where it's led?" I asked him teasingly as I walked down the stairs, looking around at his magnificent lair once more. It was reminiscent of the night I had first met him and the slow trek down to his home. I also remembered the other events of the night clearly; especially the unmasking. I heard a small intake of breath and I turned to look at the Phantom who remained standing at the organ.

"_Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation,_

_Darkness stirs and wakes imagination._

_Silently the senses abandon their defenses…"_

He sang the short and sweet notes as he steadily walked closer. I smiled slightly at the beautiful song. His voice was so amazing… like I had thought on the first night, it was truly like an Angel's. His voice alone was starting to make me feel weak at the knees.

_Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor,_

_Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender._

_Turn your face away, from the garish light of day,_

_Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light_

_And listen to the music of the night,"_

He continued to sing again as he stalked closer. He was now close enough that I could reach out and touch him. The thought was so tempting that I had to force my arms to remain locked at my sides and not reaching for his face like they so desperately wanted to.

"_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams!_

_Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before!_

_Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar!_

_And you'll live as you've never lived before…"_

He continued singing as he paused in his wandering the lair to look back at me as he sang the next lines, closing his eyes as he did so.

"_Softly, deftly, music shall caress you_

_Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you._

_Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind_

_IN this darkness which you know you cannot fight_

_The darkness of the music of the night…"_

He sang the last lines, looking for the world as if the music was flowing through him and the sweet medley coming from within him.

"_Let your mind start a journey through a strange, new world!_

_Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before!_

_Let your soul take you where you long to be!_

_Only then can you belong to me…"_

He sang the lines as he stalked closer until he was finally a breadth away from me. As the next lines started flowing from his mouth, he slowly turned me around in his arms. I was defenseless and helpless but to do as he wished. My senses were in overload as I listened to the wondrous voice. My knees seemed to only be getting weaker by the second and I felt as if, for the world, I would pass out at any moment.

"_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!_

_Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation!"_

He sang as he led my hand upwards towards his face. I slowly caressed his cheek before he turned me around and, pulling me by the hand, started guiding me further along into the lair.

"_Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in,_

_To the power of the music that I write,_

_The power of the music of the night…"_

He sang as my legs finally buckled. I fell down but he caught me just in time before lifting me up and steadying me. I leaned heavily on him, unsure if I could remain standing.

"_You alone can make my song take flight_

_Help me make the music of the night…"_

He held the last note as I remained leaning heavily on him. I had to take slow, careful breaths otherwise I was sure I'd simply faint. When he finally stopped singing I took a few extra moments before I was able to stand properly and look at him. He gave a wry smile.

"That was beautiful," I told him as I thought of one thing: _he understands me. We both have music running through our heads._ His wry smile turned into a chuckle as he moved over to the organ and sat on the bench, shifting through the sheet music. He finally found what he was looking for and stood, walking back to me.

"It appears I am not the only one with music running through my head. I had written this a while ago," he told me, handing the song to me as I looked over the beautiful notes and the different instruments that would be compiled into playing this song. I smiled softly before I looked back up at him to see him contemplating something.

"What is it?" I asked him quietly, startling him from his thoughts. He looked at me and frowned slightly before running his hand through his hair. The contemplating expression returned to his face as he stared at me. His stare caused me to shiver and I felt vulnerable. It was as if my soul itself was an open book before him for him to read as he pleased. "Whatever it is, you can tell me… you can trust me," I promised him as I glanced at his mask before my eyes returned to his. His uncertainty was reminiscent of the first night he had invited me to tea after lessons, unsure if it had been the right thing to do.

"I… I had originally written and sung the song for Christine but… it never felt right," he told me quietly as he looked down at the sheet music in my hands. "She… just didn't understand me and the music I have constantly running through my head," he told me softly, contemplating it. "She feared me instead. It's funny… I haven't thought of Christine at all in the past month… until now," he added. I watched his with hooded eyes and a carefully guarded expression. "Why did I have such an obsession with her? She didn't love me… who ever could?" he asked sadly and I patted him on the back, leading him into the back room where he had a table and two chairs. I gently guided him so he sat in one while I went and made the tea.

"Don't say that, Erik. You're a wonderful man. You're a genius and… you're beautiful," I told him honestly, wincing slightly as I made the tea. I realized how much I believed in those words. Was it possible I was falling in love with Erik? He was a genius and so… amazingly perfect. He was everything I could want.

"Yes. Sadly, you're one person who says that; one who's taken," he said sadly and I stopped in the middle of pouring the tea to turn and look at him, confused. He looked up at me and cocked an eyebrow as if to say 'do you deny it?'

"What do you speak of, Erik?" I asked him, confused as to what he meant. I was taken? By who? Especially since I was an orphan, I would think I'd know if I were engaged to anyone seeing as I have no family to marry me off as they see fit.

"That stagehand, Charles," he said bitterly, growling slightly. "You've followed my rules, which I thank you for. You have not courted with him yet but it's obvious that you love him by the way you look at him," he continued bitterly, growling yet again at the end. I looked at him, wondering if he was jealous, before I burst out laughing. He looked at me in surprise before glaring as I continued laughing. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't stop for a good few minutes. "Stop laughing at me," he barked the order.

"Erik, oh Erik," I sighed wistfully as I smiled sadly at him. "I love Charles, yes, but as I would love Meg. He's like my brother, family. He's one of my best friends," I told Erik who blinked in surprise, his mouth forming a silent 'oh'. "Besides, both he and Meg are in love with each other. They haven't started courting yet since they're shy and don't know how the other feels. I've tried to convince them to tell each other but… alas it hasn't happened," I told him wistfully.

"My apologies for jumping to conclusions, Marie," he told me, seeming ashamed, yet there seemed to be a hint of a smile and happiness at the revelation. I gave him a small smile as I finished pouring the tea and set it on the table.

"That's alright, Erik. As for your problem… Christine didn't understand the night or the dark. She grew up surrounded by daylight. She didn't grow up in the night, so to speak," I told him softly as I sat in the seat across from him. He narrowed his eyes and glared up at me accusingly.

"Oh yes, and you would know so much about growing up in the dark," he hissed dangerously. I raised my hands in the universal peace sign before I spoke.

"I would know a lot about that. While I don't know much of your past, I know I can't claim to know or have seen as much as you, but I've seen my fair share as well," I told him sadly, wincing as my hand went up to the back of my neck to trace one of my many scars. I closed my eyes, wincing again at the memories of just _how_ those scars came to be.

"And what's your 'fair share'?" Erik snarled the question, glaring at me, though making no movement to scare me. I could tell, looking into his eyes that, though angry, he still didn't want me to fear him and he didn't want to scare me away. "Being yelled at by your parents? Christine is an orphan…" he hissed, trailing off. I smiled sadly at Erik and shook my head.

"Yes, Christine is an orphan, but the wonderful world of daylight that her father created for her was only continued here. She mourned, yes, but she still had a life full of daylight here," I told him before shaking my head and repressing my tears. "As for my 'fair share'… if only that was the only thing _he _did," I told him softly, wincing at how raw and emotional my voice sounded. I looked up to see Erik's expression softening slightly.

"What happened?" he asked quietly and I closed my eyes. "You can trust me," he said softly and I opened my eyes to see him looking at me so sincerely. His eyes were pleading to be trusted by someone- anyone.

"Only if you will do the same for me, Erik," I told him quietly. He looked away before his eyes met mine once more, so filled with honesty, and he nodded. "I guess I should start at the beginning then…" I trailed off slightly, wondering just how far back to start.

"I… if it's alright with you, I would like to know everything," Erik said quietly and I nodded before meeting his eyes once more.

"We had started out as a normal family. I was happy as a young child. My parents both loved me dearly. They both started to teach me how to play various instruments at a young age. I was five when I started learning how to play the violin, piano, and organ. My mother taught me how to play the violin while my father taught me to play the piano and organ. He was kind, my father, and he didn't think it unacceptable for a woman to play an instrument, hence why my mother played one and I was permitted to do so. It was a year later as my father continued to teach me that it started.

"It began with a simple cuff on the back of the head in frustration when I missed a note or messed up. Soon the simple cuff was administered for every accident. I was, at the time, unsure of why there was a change in my father, especially when I saw him start to cuff my mother as well. The cuff would turn slowly to a slap, maybe a push. Of course, everything just keeps getting worse, right?" I asked rhetorically in a bitter voice, looking up at Erik before glancing away. "By the end of that year, when I was seven, it had progressed to full blown beatings, for both my mother and myself. He started getting drunk and soon he was drunk nearly all the time.

"I couldn't figure why my father changed so much. I had thought he loved me but I guess he didn't. The beatings soon progressed even worse as he got more creative. Soon whips were involved, knives, and even heated metal. At one point he heated a sword and slapped it across my bare back," I told him, wincing at the particular memory. I was crying at this point. "He beat both my mother and I. I later learned that he had started to rape my mother, sexually abusing her, as well. When I was nine, my mother fell severely ill. The beatings never stopped for either of us, even when we were ill. She was so damaged: she would be chained in the basement. She had several broken limbs that had never been properly healed and she was blind by now. With the illness on top of it, I thought she would die."

I looked up at him through the tears in my eyes to see a pained expression on his face. There were tears in his eyes as well and a look of understanding and sympathy. Oh, many others would 'understand' and would be sympathetic but he knew what it was like to feel such pain. To feel unloved and be abused constantly- I could see it in his eyes. The only other one who knew was my mother and she was gone now too.

"It wasn't until I was 10 that I was saved from the hellish nightmare," I told him softly, not daring to look up. "My father had decided to take me out one night to see an opera. I was 10 yet I did not look upon the world with the same innocence. I knew he had something terrible planned but I didn't want an even worse beating. So, I covered my scars as he asked, put on my nice dress, and went to see the opera. I can no longer remember what production it was but I remember how I had been enthralled with the ballet corps. I myself practiced ballet at home. I had a private tutor for it as well as for my voice. Those musical, dance, and singing lessons never stopped; not even when my father's love did.

"Music had been my escape. The music playing through my head was my release. I released all my pain through the instruments every time my father had left. I had learnt quickly that my type of music, my dark sensual music was not tolerated. It simply gave my father a headache," I told Erik, looking up at him to see his expression. It was one of companionship. We knew, experienced, and thought the same way. We were two lost souls who understood each other. It was as if we were made for each other.

"So, I went to the Opera Populaire with my father and fell in love with the building. I dreamt of one day becoming a ballerina, singer, or maybe even a musician at the opera house. I was in such happiness after the opera, having experienced the most wonderful thing, when my father decided to drag me into the dark alley along Rue Scribe next to the opera house. It was that night he decided he would begin sexually abusing me," I told him, looking up at Erik who had an expression of shock on his face.

"What… Marie," he whispered softly as I started to cry again. He stood up and knelt next to me, wrapping an arm comfortingly around my shoulder.

"He cornered me in the alley and started to beat me. When he was satisfied with that, he started to touch me, reaching up towards the back of my dress. I fought and I kicked and I screamed, begging for someone to help me. It was then a man appeared and threw my father from me. He strangled my father with a lasso. The man was wearing a white, half-faced mask on the right side," I told Erik, staring meaningfully at him as he stood, backing away a few steps. "He appeared to be the age of 18 or so at the time…" I told him as he crossed the distance to me once more.

"You were the girl in the violet dress that night…" he stated, trailing off as he stared into my eyes. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. "You were the girl in the alley," he said softly. "I am so sorry Marie," he told me as he opened his eyes once more to look at me. I gave him a sad smile

"It's fine Erik. The minute you threw Buquet off me a month ago, I knew. It was like it happened all over again, only we're older," I said, laughing slightly and grinning at him before sobering again. "Sadly, the tragedy didn't end there," I told him softly. He winced at the mention of more tragedy. "I returned home to mother and we lived off my father's fortune for a year. My mother remained terribly sick the entire time. She could no longer give me violin lessons so I gained three new tutors: one for violin, one for piano, and one for the organ. This continued like this for a year until I was 11. It was then my mother felt I was old enough."

"Old enough for what, Marie?" Erik asked quietly. I looked up at him with a sad smile.

"To audition here to join and learn under the ballet corps," I told him quietly. "I went and obtained the slip for the audition which would occur later that day. I returned to the estate to find my mother had finally passed from the illness. There was no will of hers. Everything was taken away except for the possessions I managed to smuggle away," I told him, looking down as I repressed the tears in my eyes. "I was alone in the world with no one… alone to carry these scars forever more," I told him, gesturing to myself as I hung my head. "That was the same day I auditioned and made it into the ballet corps. I joined the ranks of the Opera Populaire and met two nice girls, Meg and Christine."

"So your childhood has been dark as well," he told me softly as he sat back down in the chair across from me. I looked up to face him, nodding slightly.

"Yes… yes, my childhood has been filled with darkness but I suspect it is nothing to the horrors you have seen," I told him quietly. He winced slightly and sighed, his head hanging. He turned around, his hands covering his face.

"It was a face not even a mother could love," he said softly as he turned around, mask in hand, to reveal his face. It was only the second time I'd seen it. I smiled sadly at him as I caressed his cheek, causing him to let out a strained sob. I couldn't help but wonder if this was yet another test of my loyalty- to see if I really didn't fear him. "It was a face so hideous, it caused that very mother to sell her child to a gypsy traveling fair full of freaks," he hissed out, still sobbing. "I was known as the 'Devil's Child'. Let's just say I was beat, whipped, stabbed, and I had words carved into my back. I'm sure the scars are still there: _Devil's Child_," he said quietly, his voice breaking at the end. "A monster, a hideous beast, a repulsive carcass… how many times I heard those words used to describe me. I've learned they were true-," he continued his story but I cut him off.

"They are _not_ true, so don't even _think_ it, Erik," I told him, reaching up to place my hands on his broad shoulders. "Don't _think_ it and most certainly, don't _believe_ it." I heard him start to sob even more as he fell to his knees. I knelt down next to him, careful to wrap an arm around his shoulders as he started to cry.

"Needless to say, they beat me nearly to death many times," he whispered in a strained voice filled with pain. "I too was rescued when I was ten," he whispered quietly, looking up as he wiped the tears away. He stood, pulling me up with him, and he started to pace. "I too needed an outlet for my anger and pain. I created a toy with cymbals. I had no other outlet than the toy monkey to release the music I heard in my head. When I was ten, we stopped in Paris on the Rue Scribe fairgrounds. It was right across the street from the famed Opera Populaire," he whispered quietly as he turned to face me, stopping.

"One of the ballerinas came to my rescue. She was nearly ten years older than me herself. She was studying to be a ballerina," he whispered turning away. I walked over to stand behind him. "There was another beating- another show that night. All I saw were jeering faces. When the tent emptied, my 'master' turned away to collect the money. I had snapped then. I had had enough. I stole a piece of rope and strangled him. Like the monster I am, I suffocated him and then snapped his neck for good measure," he said quickly before hanging his head. I placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a careful squeeze.

"You are _not_ a monster. The man deserved it for the cruel things he had done to you, Erik. _He_ was truly the _Devil's Child_," I told him as I gave his shoulder another squeeze. He turned around to look at me with sorrow filled eyes. It was then I took him in my arms, giving him a hard squeeze around the torso. He froze for a moment before returning it and pressing his face into my hair.

"A man saw and called for the gendarmerie. There was a ballerina there too who witnessed the crime. She was blonde and a kind soul. She didn't jeer or shout cruel things like the rest," he whispered softly. "She took mercy on me. She stole me away and hid me under the opera house. I remained there for a few years before I journeyed briefly to Persia, Greece, Italy, Spain, and China. I returned when I was 17 to build a palace of my own beneath the opera house," he whispered again. I squeezed him again, which he returned, holding on as if I was his life line.

"One night when I was 18, I was sneaking out the Rue Scribe entrance to the cellars of the opera house after one of the productions. I heard shouts and pleas for help coming from an alleyway. I hated mankind for what it had done to me, so I was tempted, sorely tempted, to simply walk away," he whispered, his eyes seeing something faraway. "I recognized it as the sound of a girl and then I heard her voice. The emotion behind it- it reminded me of my own cries for my mother in the first year I was abandoned. It was the cry of another lost soul in need of help," he whispered sadly.

"So, I helped the ten year old girl before vanishing, pleased to have helped her. It was nearly a year later when she arrived at the opera house, though I didn't recognize her," he said quietly looking down at me with a wistful smile. "And now, here she and I stand, 11 years later, two lost souls looking for one who understands. Two lost souls searching for another who hears music running through their head, needs music as an outlet, understands the pain, can withstand the scars and disfigurations, and who needs the beauty underneath," he said with another small smile.

"And here they stand, one of them wondering if they found the one who understands and whether he feels the same way," I told him quietly with a soft smile.

"And the other standing with her in his arms, wondering the same thing," he whispered back.

"_Two souls,_

_Two souls that understand,_

_Two hearts,_

_Two hearts who beat as one,"_

We sang together before I buried my face in his chest, and he buried his face in my hair.

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**A/N: So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I hope you don't think it progressed too quickly but I was honestly just too lazy, I suppose, to make this story a particularly long one. The next chapter will be later this same night and I already have this one written out! So, as soon as the story hits 5 reviews, I will post this chapter, provided that it is during normal daylight hours. ;)**

**Enjoy! **


	9. The Heart Always Knows

**A/N: As I promised, here it is. This chapter is a continuation of the last chapter. It occurs later the same night. Again, I hope you don't think things are progressing too quickly but I left out a month worth of detail. I don't know about your opinions but in my opinion, I do believe a month might be enough time for them to bond, given both of their pasts. **

**Sorry it took so long! I was unaware that I had received five reviews! I presume that I must've accidentally deleted one.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

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"Alright, what's wrong, Erik?" I asked softly as I blocked the mirror with my foot so it couldn't close shut. He looked at me surprised. After we had shared our past, we had finished our tea in companionable silence. As he escorted me back to my dressing room tonight, which was not needed but pleasant, he had been silent. It wasn't a content silence though, but rang of deep thought nearing on dark.

"I..." he trailed off before giving a heavy sigh and sitting down on one of the chairs in my dressing room. He rubbed his face before looking back up at me as I shot him my best 'I'm waiting' look. "Tonight is the first time I've thought of Christine since a few nights after she left," he said and I nodded before taking a seat on my bed. If it was about Christine, it would take a while, and it would mean he was having _really_ deep thoughts.

"Go on, Erik," I told him quietly to which he nodded. He sighed as he stood and started pacing, a frown on his face.

"It's just… I realized tonight that she isn't coming back, is she?" he asked, looking over to me. When I shook my head, he sighed and continued pacing. "It is sad but… I'm not sure if I was ever _truly_ in love with her. I think it was more… lust and an obsession than anything," he said quietly, blushing, as if ashamed to admit it. "Her not returning doesn't truly bother me as much as… as much as your departure would," he admitted shyly. I gave him a small smile as I blushed slightly. He gave a wry grin before continuing. "I realized that she never did and probably never would or could love me. She feared me because she didn't understand me.

"As you said- she fears the dark. She fears me and doesn't understand me because I was molded by the dark much like you. She was a creature of the daylight while the calm, forgiving night took us under its wing," he spoke softly. I smiled again as he spoke of the darkness' beauty. "She doesn't understand what it's like to have music running through your head or for the pain to be just so strong that the only outlet is our music. You do," he said quietly as he raised his head to look at me. "You understand it and you understand me.

"She was of the day, molded by it, and she feared and was repulsed by my face. She found it to be horrid and me to be a monster. You are an Angel of the Night; I doubt there is anything that could horrify you so. We've seen much of the world's horrors while she has seen too little. She is too innocent," he continued. I listened carefully though I winced at the thought of him being considered a 'monster' by anyone. When he called me an 'Angel of the Night', I found my heart had swollen. I had realized it earlier in the evening, while he sang that I was in love with him. I just simply wondered if such a beautifully handsome man could ever love me. "We're both scarred while she remains unblemished.

"She and I would never have worked. My personality is too strong while hers is too weak. Yours is strong- strong enough to deal with me. As I said, I realized it to be both an obsession and desperation to be loved. I was desperate to be loved and so, with the growing obsession, I projected those emotions onto her falsely while never truly feeling them," he admitted quietly as he finally sat down on the bed next to me, looking downwards at the floor. "I… I also realized that I…" he trailed off as he glanced up to stare into my eyes before saying, "that I love you." I stared at him in shock, wondering if this were to be true.

"You… you love me?" I asked faintly.

"Yes, I mean, you know nearly everything about me from the past month we'd spent together," he said quietly as he looked into my eyes, his filled with honesty. "You know me, understand me, complete me, and accept me. You do not shun or reject me like Christine and the rest of the world. You accept me and all my flaws with open arms. Your personality is strong and you're able to tame my inner beast. You can calm me down and… and I find your voice to be both wonderfully beautiful, like an Angel's, and so calming. Your voice alone can calm me like no other," he spoke earnestly and from the heart as he looked away into the distance. He shook his head as if coming back. "I… I love you, Marie," he said finally. "And I think I have since I saved you on the night of _Il Muto_. I just hadn't realized it."

"Erik," I said softly, a few tears in my eyes as I stared up at him. "I love you too, Erik. I've known I loved you since earlier this evening when I heard you sing to and for me. I… I think I've loved you since the moment you saved me too… It was as if… as if…" I trailed off, trying to find the correct words.

"As if my soul recognized another lost soul- the one to complete me," we said at the same time before we blushed. I started to giggle slightly and he gave me a small grin before looking down shyly.

"I… I've noticed that… thoughts of you fill almost my every waking moment. I constantly wonder where you are, if you're alright, when I will see you again, if you're thinking of me too, why I'm thinking of you, your beauty, your voice, and so much more…" he trailed off. "I've also found that… whereas I once wrote my opera in the mindset of it being performed by Christine, I now find myself writing it for you. I no longer need to alter the notes for Christine- they can be how I always imagined. Your voice is truly the one to perform my work." I smiled softly up at Erik as he said that.

"Oh Erik," I sighed with a smile. "How I love you so," I told him. An emotion I could not place flashed across his eyes before he glanced downwards shyly. He looked as if, for the world, he had something he wanted to desperately ask but was afraid. "Erik? What is it? You can ask me anything," I told him and he blushed slightly before meeting my eyes.

"I, I was wondering if… if I could have the pleasure of kissing you," he stated as he averted his eyes again. It was as if a natural reflex the fear of rejection. From the glimpse I saw of his eyes, he was indeed fearful of being rejected after he had put himself out there.

"Erik," I told him quietly, caressing his cheek softly. He looked up, his eyes carefully guarded, as I moved my hands slowly across his cheek to rest on his mask. "You may have that pleasure now and at anytime going forwards," I told him as I slowly pulled his mask off, revealing his deformity. I saw shock and surprise flit across his eyes once more as if he still didn't believe that I truly didn't care. It was as if he was expecting a reaction of any sorts but I knew he would be disappointed. "In fact, I would very much enjoy you kissing me at your leisure… now and always," I told him quietly as I leaned in towards him. He gave a small smile.

"As you wish, my dark angel of music," he whispered before he touched his lips to mine. A fire seemed to explode from the moment our lips made contact and he swiftly deepened the kiss, skillfully slipping his tongue between our lips. A pool of pure heat a desire filled my abdomen as we kissed. It was truly an amazing first kiss, one that was filled of passion as I slowly felt myself heat up.

When we finally pulled apart, we filled our lungs with air before meeting our eyes. The minute my eyes made contact, I lost myself in his emerald green, cat-like eyes. I felt myself sway slightly before he pulled me in for another long and passionate kiss. The second time we pulled apart we were both breathing heavily.

"I trust I am… a sufficient kisser," he whispered, panting slightly from the lack of air and the heat of desire I'm sure he must've been feeling as well.

"I say that far surpasses sufficient," I told him as I gave him a quick peck on the lips. "I say skillful and adept." He gave me a small smile as he raised his eyebrow before pulling me in for another kiss. "Is it safe to say we're courting?" I asked him breathlessly. He gave me a grin before leaning in towards my ear.

"I want you to be mine forever… but this will surely suffice for now," he whispered in my ear before pulling away. He gave me another heartbreaking smile before he stood and slowly walked to the mirror. When he was standing on the threshold of the mirror, he turned around. "Good night, _my_ Angel of Night, _my_ Dark Angel, _my_ Angel of Music," he said softly with a huge smile on his face. Looking at him, it appeared as if a few years had been taken away from him with the companionship.

"You just like saying I'm yours," I told him quietly as I smiled at him. He raised an eyebrow before he spoke once more.

"Who wouldn't? Any man lucky enough to have you would wish to boast," he told me with a small smile. "Sleep, my angel. You have rehearsals in the morning," he whispered before he left, the mirror closing behind him.

I stood and moved behind the changing curtain and changed into my nightgown. When I finished, I collapsed onto my bed muttering, "What a night," before drifting off into a peaceful dream.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**A/N: Love me for the action Erik is getting, or hate me for moving to fast. Oh well. All's fair in love and war. As I said, things will move a little quickly because I don't want this story to be particularly long. Yes, this chapter was rather short so hopefully I'll write another one soon. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the bit of action I allowed Erik. I did include a kiss scene but the romance scenes will not go beyond that mainly due to my own writing style and comfort. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and 7 reviews means an update, provided I have time to write another chapter!**


	10. The Unforgettable Dinner

**A/N: yay! New chapter! This takes place three days after the previous one! Excuse the mistakes because I haven't had time to thoroughly read through out yet.**

It had been three nights since Erik and I had officially started courting. The prior nights had been spent similar to how we used to but with minor differences. While having tea, we would sit on the couch, with his arm around me, and I would rest my head on his broad shoulder. He would always stand at the mirror's threshold each night and kiss me goodbye before he vanished back down to his home. He would also kiss me several times throughout the night.

Now, I was stood in front of my mirror, waiting for Erik to arrive so we could go to lessons. Over the past two days, he had making it a point to remark on my great improvement. He had even said jokingly, "soon you won't need me" but I could tell there was a hint of real sorrow in that.

"Are you ready my Angel?" A voice asked, causing me to jump in surprise. I shook away the remaining traces of my reverie before smiling and looking up to face Erik. He looked just as charming and handsome as ever, dressed all in his usual black vest, white button down shirt, black cloak, and a blood-red tie. I smiled at him as I took his hand, allowing him to guide me into the passage way.

"I am, Erik," I told him as we started to walk down the passage way. We walked in silence, side-by-side, as he held my hand. I snuck a peek up at his face to see him smiling down at me looking so heartbreakingly charming and handsome. He leaned down to peck me on the lips before we continued walking, stopping in front of his horse, who I had learned to be Cesar.

"That's good," he said as he helped me mount Cesar. I watched him walk away for a brief second before returning with something hidden. "Because there has been a slight change in plans," he told me as he gracefully leapt onto Cesar, sitting comfortably behind me. He reached around me and placed a large basket on my lap before shifting forwards so my back was flush against his chest. I blushed slightly as I peeked up to look at him. He wore a small grin and a face so full of confidence unlike I had ever seen on him before.

"Oh? Where are we going for lessons, then?" I asked him as he lifted the reins and with a sharp yet gentle nudge to Cesar's side, we were off. He smiled down at me as I leaned my head back against his chest.

"We are not having lessons tonight," he said with a grin as he nudged Cesar to speed up from a simple trot to a canter. "We, as you said a few nights prior, are courting," he said with a smile of pure joy and happiness. "I am going to do this the proper way as best as I can," he said, faltering slightly, before becoming confident and self-assured once more. "Therefore, I am taking you out for a late dinner," he announced as the passageway started to narrow. "Careful," he warned as the passageway started to slope upwards and he leaned forwards slightly, taking hold of the reins with one hand and using the other to wrap around my waist and brace me.

"Oh, thank you Erik," I told him as I twisted around and gave him a kiss on the lips. Time seemed to altogether stop for a moment before we were jostled as the horse cantered across an uneven patch of ground. Our lips broke apart as my face slipped downwards into his chest. I glanced up to see him smiling broadly as I twisted back around.

"Anything for you, my angel," he whispered in my ear as we approached a gate which had been opened ahead of time. I smiled and giggled slightly as we flew through the open gate and cantered down the Rue Scribe. I felt something be placed atop my head. I twisted to see Erik was wearing a cloak so his face could not be seen. I turned around and pulled the hat he had placed on my head down further.

We weren't traveling down the Rue Scribe for long before I felt Erik shift slightly and guide the horse off the road and into the forest. I felt him wrap his arms more securely around me as Cesar galloped through the forest. There was no path for us to follow so we resorted to Cesar weaving between the trees as we moved through the forest like a shadowy blur. I gripped Erik more tightly as Cesar leaptover a tree before slowing down to a trot.

My world suddenly went dark as a strip of velvet was wrapped around my eyes, preventing me from seeing. Before I could even start to panic, I felt Erik's strong arm around my waist, holding the reins, as his other started to stroke my hair to keep me calm as Cesar stopped altogether. I felt Erik dismount before gently lifting me from the horse and setting me on the ground. He lifted the hat from my hair as he stroked my hair. He kept an arm wrapped around my waist as he led me through what I could only assume to have been flowers.

He stopped when we reached an open, flowerless patch. "I'm right here," he said soothingly as he released his hold on my waist. I heard him moving around and the sound of clattering. I shivered in the chilly fall night air, missing the warm body that had been next to me just before. Shortly after the movement stopped I heard a sound almost like someone shushing me. After, I heard Erik release his breath quickly before his warm body returned to me.

"You may look now," he said softly as he untied the velvet ribbon that had been covering my eyes. As the ribbon fell away, my eyes were graced with the sight of a beautiful clearing, lush with lavender and other flowers. There was a river that cut through part of the meadow and the moon was high in the sky, reflecting upon the water. However, it wasn't the meadow itself that drew my attention.

Set in the middle of the meadow was a large blanket which upon it was a dinner set for two. There were many lit gothic candles set on the blanket and around the clearing. Several of the trees that graced the clearing were also lit with gothic candles. It was so romantic and beautiful that I couldn't help but smile broadly at it. "What do you think?" Erik whispered into my ear as he came behind me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me back to stand against his chest.

"I think it's beautiful, so very beautiful," I sung quietly to him as I gazed around the meadow. He unfolded me from his arms before taking my hand in his and guiding further into the clearing. We approached the blanket and he helped me sit down upon the blanket before taking a seat right next to me. He gave me a smile as he set two plates of carefully cooked steak in front of us with stewed vegetables.

"I hope you enjoy," he said quietly as we began to eat, our thighs brushing against each others as we sat side-by-side on the blanket. The steak was amazing and seemingly cooked to perfection. The vegetables just as delicious and flavorful as the steak itself had been. I sighed in contentment at the food and turned to him to see a smile grace his handsome features.

"This is so delicious, Erik!" I told him, wondering if he made it himself. Could he have cooked this?

"Thank you. I made it myself," he told me quietly causing me to pause in wonderment. How was it he was this amazing? He was an architect, a composer, a wonderful suitor, a genius, had a voice to die for, and he could cook! What more was there to him? Was there anything he couldn't do?

"Is there anything you can't do?" I found myself asking before blushing when I realized I had voiced my thoughts aloud. He smiled at me and cocked his head as if thinking hard.

"Well… no," he said with a serious expression before he burst out laughing. I froze at his laugh, admiring the beautiful and musical sound before I hit him and started laughing myself.

"Seriously you silly. What else is there to you that I don't know about?" I asked him. He raised an eyebrow and seriously started to consider my question.

"Let's see… I'm an excellent horseman, swordsman, and I'm excellent at archery," he said quietly as he cleared away our empty plates and placed them back into the basket. I shivered slightly in the chilly air as he continued speaking. "I once built for the shah of Persia and I visited places such as Greece, Rome, Italy, Spain, and Istanbul to admire the architecture. While in Italy, I had also visited Venice where I gained the inspiration for my lake," he added as he moved the basket off the blanket and pulled another blanket out from the basket. "I journeyed to China and a few other countries near by and learned several forms of martial arts," he added as he lay out next to me, pulling the second blanket over us, much to my relief.

"Thank you," I whispered to him as he pulled me into his arms and smiled as he kissed me on the forehead. I buried my head in his chest as he continued to speak, telling me all of his accomplishments.

"You're welcome, my Night Angel," he whispered as he kissed me on the head again. "I am also a sharpshooter, able to shoot both pistol and rifle," he added to his list of weaponry and fighting skills. "I am skillful with a rope, as you saw," he said quietly, wincing slightly as we both remembered the Buquet incident. "I can't say I regret that, though, seeing as he almost did… horrible unspeakable things to you," he hissed out, his voice filled with anger. He pulled me closer to him against his chest and held me tighter as if to reassure him I was safe.

"It's alright, it's in the past now," I told him as I lifted my head from his chest to kiss him on the lips. He eagerly returned the kiss before pulling away with a fond smile on his face and adoration in his eyes. Those pleading eyes that both threatened and adored, came Christine's words floating through my head again. I again remarked on how true they were but those eyes had never threatened me or shown anger towards me, something I was grateful for. "Go on, dear," I told him and he smiled, cocking an eyebrow.

"Go on through the list of things I'm magnificent at?" he asked with a confident smirk before he turned thoughtful. "I am skillful when it comes to climbing and such," he added, though that needn't be said seeing as he spent most his time up in the catwalks of the opera house, climbing from one to the other. "You know how I'm good at designs. In fact, all the inventions, candles and such in my lair are powered by water which is why they move," he told me to which I nodded, in awe as he spoke. "I've even started to design a horseless carriage but at the present there is no suitable power source that I can use," he said sadly. "At least no reasonable source," he added. I smiled and nodded at the genius, my genius in whose arms I lay, looking up at the moon and the stars. "I can't be sure if that is it or not," he said after a few moments of silence. More silence followed his statement as we stared at the night sky.

"It's beautiful," I told him as I stared fondly at the sky, looking at the different constellations.

"You are," he said. I turned to look at him to see him blushing before trying to cover up his mistake. "The sky is… yes," he agreed as he looked up at the sky. "Oh," he said as he pointed to the various constellations, telling me their names and such and how their position changed over the course of the other seasons. He also pointed out the northern star to me as I watched him. He was so animated while he spoke that I couldn't help but be enthralled as I listened to him speak. I found myself excited about the constellations as I heard him speak.

"Wow… you never told me you knew so much about astronomy as well," I told him after he had finished speaking. He smiled down at me and was about to say something when we heard a sloshing sound that startled us. Erik pushed himself up, bracing himself on his arm, both of which tightened around me, and I twisted around towards the source of the noise. We started laughing slightly when we saw it was just Cesar who had tread into the shallow water, neighing happily. "He looks like he's having so much fun," I told Erik as I looked fondly at the horse sloshing around in the water.

"Maybe we should join him and have fun of our own," Erik suggested. I looked over at him in shock to see he had a mischievous grin on his face.

"Oh no… no, no, No!" I yelled as Erik lifted me from the blanket and slung me over his shoulder. "You… barbarian!" I shrieked with laughter as he walked me over to the edge of the stream.

"Barbarian you say?" He bellowed in mock anger before dropping me into the water. I sat up in the shallow water, drenched, and stared up at him in shock to see him laughing. I hadn't noticed before but he had shed both his cloak and vest at some point so I could only assume he had been planning this.

"Why you little… devil!" I shouted at him while laughing as he helped me up. He cocked an eyebrow and stared deeply into my eyes.

"Devil? Did you say, 'devil', madame? Is that what you called me?" He asked, to which I nodded. He grinned and the mischievous look came back into his eyes. "Then I'd have no problem doing this," he said as he stole my breath away by kissing me passionately. We broke apart, breathing heavily, and he grinned down at me. "If I'm a devil, what does that make you?" he asked. I grinned up at him as I wrapped my arms around him, an action which he reciprocated.

"The Devil's Dark Angel of Night and Music," I whispered back to him. He grinned back at me with a devilishly handsome look on his face and in his eyes.

"I like that-," he started but wasn't able to get any further since I had pulled him into the water with me while his guard was down. We sat up, spitting water out of our mouths and looking at each other. He frowned and shook his head. "Shame, shame, shame," he said quietly before looking at me with a predator-like look in his eyes. "It seems you've riled up the devil," he told me before pouncing on me and pulling me into his arms as we went under briefly. He lifted me off my feet as he walked into the deeper water, me laughing as he carried me. He stopped when the water was up to his waist and he looked down at me with a loving look in his eyes.

"I love you," I whispered before leaning up and kissing him. He smiled into the kiss before kissing back.

"I know," he whispered softly, pulling me closer as a slight breeze washed over us. "That won't stop me from doing this, though," he whispered before dropping me into the water. I went under before standing up, gasping at him.

"Oh you…!" I trailed off as I chased him around in the water, splashing each other as we went along. It wasn't until much later, long after Cesar retired from the water that we stumbled onto the shore. Erik's mask had been long discarded upon it so we retrieved it before making our way back to the basket, arm in arm, and teeth chattering. We collapsed onto the blanket the minute we reached it, laughing as we slowly started to freeze. Erik sat up and reached into the basket, pulling it onto the blanket next to him.

"I hope you don't mind, my angel," Erik started as he pulled out a set of clothing for himself before continuing to say, "but I took the liberty of invading your dressing room while you were at rehearsals this afternoon," he said as he pulled out undergarments, a lavender dress, and my nightgown from the basket. I grinned up at him, teeth chattering as I did so.

"You had this all planned," I commented as he turned back around.

"Yes, I…" he trailed off as he looked at my face in the candlelight, a shocked expression on his features. I frowned, wondering what could be wrong when I remembered we went into the water. It meant the makeup on my face had come undone and my many scars from my childhood were showing. "Oh, Marie," he sighed sadly as he reached up to trace one long scar that stretched from the temple down to my chin on the right side of my face. "Oh, my beautiful Angel," he sighed sadly at the scars. "Who did this to you?" he whispered angrily as I lowered my eyes, not wanting to look into his any longer and see the sorrow at the scars revelations. I must've shattered his dreams of a beautiful and perfect woman by his side.

"My father… these are the scars I told you of… the ones I obtained in my childhood. These were from shards of glass… he used them to cut my face after he threw me into a mirror," I told him quietly, not daring to meet his eyes.

"Marie," he whispered quietly. "Marie, why won't you look at me?" he asked as he carefully placed a hand on my cheek, tracing the scar lightly.

"They're hideous, I know. I normally cover them but... I forgot with the water," I told him sadly, still not daring to look at him.

"Marie, look at me," he ordered quietly yet gently. I raised my eyes to meet his to see his eyes were shining with sincerity. "They're not hideous, and don't bother to object because I would most certainly know best in this case," he told me quietly. "Why would you cover them? I'm not disappointed or sad or angry at you, Marie. I'm filled with sorrow at the thought of how you obtained such scars and angry at the wretch who dared do that to my angel," he hissed quietly.

"I love you Erik," I told him as I reached up to kiss him on the lips. He kissed me back gently before his eyes wandered downwards to my wet clothing. He pulled me up and handed me the dry clothing and turned me around.

"Tell me why you cover your scars while you change," he ordered while he turned his back to me and began to change as well. I started to change and, with a sigh, began my tale.

"When I was young, my father would never let me cover the scars he had given me except for when the tutors were there or we had company. He said they should be there to remind me of what a little wench I was. After you saved me from that nightmare, I covered them constantly, only allowing them to remain uncovered while I showered and slept. I was afraid then and seeing the scars only reminded me of the terrible pain I had once endured," I told him quietly as I pulled on the undergarments and slipped into the lavender dress. I turned to see Erik standing there shirtless. He turned to look at me, holding his shirt, and his eyes were filled with sorrow at my pain. I couldn't help but stare appreciatively at Erik's bare chest which was nicely chiseled and muscled. For a recluse, he was in magnificentshape. Then again, that was to be expected of the Opera Ghost.

"Like the view?" Erik asked with a raised eyebrow. I blushed slightly as he laughed, pulling on his shirt and buttoning it up. "Go on," he said quietly as he turned me around to help tie my dress.

"Well, I had started to accept it and only wore it when going out. At the opera house, when I first came here, I wore it all day, wishing that no one would see my scars. I wore it at meals, with friends, during rehearsals, and I had to especially cover my entire body for performances," I said, only then realizing that Erik wasn't tying my dress like I had expected. "Erik?" I asked as I felt him start to lightly trace patterns into my back which, after a bit, I distinctly realized to be the scars and scarred words on my back.

"He carved 'wench' into your back with a knife?" Erik asked quietly to which I nodded, silent tears forming in my eyes. "He did all this too?" Erik asked as he traced other scarred lines on my back, the word 'wench' a few more times.

"Yes… some are from when he pushed me into the mirror," I told him as I let out a silent cry. As if sensing my distress, Erik turned me around and pulled me to him, rubbing my back comfortingly and tracing patterns of his own onto my back with his hand.

"I'm so sorry, Marie," he whispered quietly as he pulled me closer. I nodded before turning around so he could tie my dress and I could continue my story.

"Well, I guess I started to cover the scars up all the time once more. Like you wear your mask, I cover my scars as well. It helps keep me safe from the past and keeps me from being judged," I told him as he finished tying me dress. He nodded softly before he sat me down on the blanket. He pulled his cloak on before he too lay down and pulled the blanket over us.

"In that case, do me a favor Marie, and never go out of your way to cover the scars in my presence," he said quietly. I nodded and buried my face into his chest, shivering slightly. "Are there more? More than the ones on your upper back?" he asked quietly to which I again nodded, shivering once more. He looked down at me as he too shivered slightly before he said, "watch this." I sat up and watched him dig into his cloak before he pulled something out that I couldn't see.

"What are you doing?" I asked him. He looked at me and gave me a smirk.

"Watch this," he said as he gestured to a pile of sticks next to the blanket with a smirk. With a grand gesture, he thrust his arm forwards, as if throwing something, and I watched as a large flame appeared. The sticks caught on fire and burned brightly, the flames rather large.

"How did you do that?" I asked in shock and surprise as I marveled at the fire. He smirked at me.

"I'm also an illusionist or magician. Illusions are my forte. It aids me in my hauntings. I can also throw my voice so it sounds as if it were coming from the opposite side of the room I am standing at," he told me to which I nodded, marveling at it.

"It is an amazing feat, my genius," I told him as I reached up to kiss him. He smiled down at me as he pulled me closer to him and kissed the top of my head, stroking my hair.

"I am your genius as you are my angel," he replied as we lay there in each other's arms. We spoke for a while longer under the stars, watching the stars and just enjoying each other's company when…

"Look! A shooting star! Make a wish, Erik," I told him, closing my eyes. I wish we two shall never part. I looked over at him to see he had his eyes closed. When he opened them, he looked over at me and smiled.

"What did you wish for, Marie?" He asked. I smiled up at him.

"I wished to have you, forever- that we would never part," I told him. He smiled down at me, pulling me closer so I could rest my head on his chest, allowing him to trace patterns on my back. "What did you wish for Erik?"

"That is a wish I can grant you," Erik said with a smile. "As for what I wished, I wished that I would never have to see my angel hurt again," he told me and I smiled back up at him.

"That is a wish I can try my best to grant to you," I told him in return. He kissed me on the top of the head before he continued tracing patterns on my back and stroking my hair. We stayed like that for a while before I heard Erik sigh.

"We must be going back," he told me as he stood, kicking dirt and putting out the flame. I helped him by walking around and blowing out the candles, collecting them and putting them in the basket. Soon we had finished packing up and we had mounted Cesar. Once more, I placed my hat on, pulling it low on my face, and he pulled his hood over his head, wrapping his arms around me to hold the reins.

The ride back to the Opera Populaire was quiet and we sat in content silence. Once when I shivered slightly, Erik pulled me to his chest and wrapped the cloak around me as well. Soon enough we were riding back through the gate at Rue Scribe, which Erik closed, and riding back through the passageways. Before I knew it, we were standing on the threshold of the mirror to my dressing room.

"I had a splendid time tonight, Erik," I told him with a smile. He returned the smile as he pulled me to him, giving me a long, passionate kiss.

"I did as well, my angel," he whispered. I smiled up at him as he whispered, "I love you, but you must sleep for now." I nodded in agreement before I too spoke.

"I love you too Erik. Goodnight," I told him. I waited until after he left to change into my nightgown before falling onto my bed. I looked at the pocket watch on my vanity to see it was well past midnight. With a sigh of contentment, I blew out the candles of my dressing room and went to sleep for the night, dreaming of the wonderful night I had had with Erik.

**A/N: yay! I hope you enjoyed that chapter! 7 reviews means a new update! I'm not entirely sure where I'll go with the next chapter so please bare with me! I love you guys!**


	11. Return of the Soprano

**A/N: So, this is a really really short chapter that I wrote rather quickly to get a little something up. I was on vacation all last week so I haven't had much time to write at all. Hopefully I'll have more time this week and there will be another longer chapter up by next week! Enjoy!**

Several weeks had passed since the night of the romantic dinner and it was now well into the third month since Christine's departure and Erik taking me on as his new pupil. The Masquerade Ball was getting closer, as was the completion of his life's work. He was so unbearably excited that he couldn't help tapping his fingers to the organ's tune in one of his songs. He had even been excited enough to play a short bit of his opera for me one day during lessons. Being that the Masquerade Ball was only a week away, he was both anxious and excited at the fact that he only had to alter the finale of the third act before his life's work was finally completed.

Erik wasn't the only one who was excited. The entirety of the opera house was in an uproar over the Masquerade Ball. Guys were bragging over the lucky 'dames' they got to spend the evening with. The girls in the ballet dorms could be found giggling and discussing dresses and costumes and such. Meg especially was in a tizzy over the mention of the Masquerade Ball.

Nearly a week ago, I had finally convinced Charles to ask Meg to accompany him to dinner. At dinner he had asked her if he could have the 'pleasure' of escorting her to the Masquerade. After she said yes, he had then proceeded to ask Madame Giry for her permission to court Meg. Knowing Charles to be a respectable man and earnest yet honest worker, she had given him the permission he sought. They had gone to dinner nearly every night since then, the only exception being the night we had the late performance scheduled. Since then, Meg would squeal and giggle at the mention of the Masquerade before launching into details of her costume to anyone who listened. She planned on going as an angel, a costume which I was sure she would pull off splendidly. Charles, deciding to match her, decided to go as the male version of an angel. Being both their closest friends, I had seen both their costumes in the stores (having gone to get the costumes with both) and I knew they'd look wonderful, even though the costumes weren't done being altered yet.

They weren't the only ones thinking of costumes for the Masquerade. I knew what my intended costume would be.

Earlier this week, I had been looking through Erik's library during tea time and had found a particularly worn volume. After looking at it briefly, I had realized it was French translated collection of the American poet, Edgar Allan Poe. Searching through, I had found a certain poem bookmarked, the pages worn and tearing in a few places. After asking Erik, I had found that he was his favorite poet, and the poem his favorite. I too, enjoyed Edgar Allan Poe, possessing the same French edition of his collection. I too knew and enjoyed this particular poem rather well: "The Masque of the Red Death".

It was off this poem I had fashioned my costume with the help of the costume designers at the Opera House. I was to be the 'Mistress of Death', as I called myself. I would wear a tight, red dress, despite Meg's warnings of the possibilities of being mistaken as a whore. The dress would contain a horrific skeletal mask, which I had fashioned myself from spare plaster which would be used to make plaster casts of masks for our operas. The mask would also be partially bloodied with the false blood we used for our operas. To add to the effect, I would wear a black and red accented shawl with a matching cloak as well a red diamond necklace with black accents set in silver. It was a necklace Erik had gifted me with the day prior when he requested I save him a dance at the Masquerade.

From that, I could gather that he intended to attend and part take in the festivities if but for one dance. I couldn't help but wonder how he would arrive to the Masquerade. Would he arrive in costume or in his usual attire? If in costume, what was he planning on going as? Maybe he would-

"Marie!" _Knock, knock, knock._ "Marie! Get your- Ow! Zut! Marie, Get your... hehe, sorry maman! Get out here now!" I heard Meg shout as she knocked yet again. I sighed, shaking my head as I came out of my reverie. There went my chance to imagine Erik in a revealing costume. "Marie!" I heard Meg shout again followed by yet another rapt at the door. With yet another sigh, I stood from the stool by my vanity, glad I had finished applying the day's make-up, and walked to the door.

"I'm sorry, Marie is not in right now!" I called out to Meg, giggling quietly. I heard a sigh of impatience from the other side and I opened it revealing a rather impatient Meg tapping her foot.

"It's about time! Come on!" Meg called as she grabbed my hand and started pulling me down the hall, giving me just enough time to lock my dressing room door.

"Meg- ow- Meg! Where are we going?! Rehearsals aren't for another hour!" I cried exasperatedly as she proceeded to drag me down the halls towards the main staircase, or at least I assumed so. "Meg! What are you doing?!" I cried when she ignored me once more. She stopped and looked at me with a wide grin on her face, giggling slightly.

"Oh, you'll love this!" She said excitedly before starting to hurry down the hall. With a sigh and roll of the eyes, I proceeded to rush after her.

We finally stopped at the top of the main staircase, looking down into the entry hall to see Carlotta speaking, or rather arguing, with the managers.

"I apologize, Signora, but we've found another soprano in your leave of absence!" Firmin said rather exasperatedly. As Carlotta began to rebut his statement, he looked exasperatedly to Andre.

"Why it's that insolent toad-!" She half cried, half squawked as she stamped her foot. "_Christine!_" She squawked again and the managers rolled their eyes.

"_Actually_, Mademoiselle Dupoint is our new leading soprano," Firmin argued back, shocking Carlotta. Carlotta's eyes darted from the managers and up the staircase to rest upon me.

"_Her? _Can the little toad even _sing_?" She squawked again in horror.

"Better than you ever could," Meg said, her response echoing across the hall. I shook my head and sighed while Carlotta squawked indignantly.

"Why you-!"

"I'm sorry, Signora, but there is nothing to be done," Andre said tiredly. Carlotta screeched, stamping her foot, before spinning on her heel and rushing out the door. The door slammed shut, causing Andre and Firmin to sigh before making their way back towards their joint-office, arguing quietly between themselves.

"Did… did that really just happen?" I asked Meg, giggling at the fact that Carlotta finally got what she deserved. Meg giggled in return, smiling up at me.

"Oh yes it did!" She cried before skipping away down the hall. "I hear they'll cast her as a secondary or understudy! Maybe they'll even put her in the chorus!" She called over her shoulder to me. "Either way- she's coming to the Masquerade! This'll truly be an interesting evening!" She called once more as I stared after her retreating figure, being left alone on the staircase.

"That seriously just happened?" I asked myself quietly to which I heard a loud, deep chuckle ring out across the entry hall. I rolled my eyes. "Thank you for laughing at me, Erik," I called out, glaring around.

"As you wish, my dark songbird," I heard his voice echo, the origins sounding as if from above my head. I rolled my eyes once more before glaring at the column next to me.

"Found you," I replied to which he chuckled, coming from the column. A hatch in the side, invisible to anyone looking at the column, slid out and he appeared, dashing as ever in his usual attire. I felt my heart flutter at the sight but I steeled my resolve and glared at him. Smiling, he walked closer and wrapped his arms around my waist, ignoring the fact that anyone could come along at any moment and see him.

An idea then formed in my head and a smile played across my lips as I looked up at him. His eyes were glinting in amusement as I placed a hand on his chest, the other caressing his face.

"I love you," I told him to which he chuckled as I stood on tiptoe, my hands cupping his cheeks. I leaned in as if to give him a kiss, lightly touching my lips to his, before pulling away out of his grasp and skipping away. I heard a gasp and looked to see him standing by the column eyes glinting in playful anger.

"Who do you think you are?" he asked mockingly. I smirked at him before replying.

"The Devil's songbird of the night," I replied to which he grinned eagerly. He made to walk towards me when we both heard echoing footsteps approaching.

"Oh, you will be repaid for that, my little songbird," he warned before grinning at me. I smiled at him and watched as he disappeared. I listened to the approaching footsteps, registering the click of heels and the heavy yet long stride of a male accompanying her.

"Believe what you will," I whispered to the column before turning to face the couple, grinning. I stopped at the sight, the grin fading from my face as the couple stared at me in confusion. "_Christine?_"

**A/N: Again, this is a really short chapter but I think this part isn't complete filler nonsense. It introduces Christine and Raoul, back on the scene, with mayhem and chaos sure to reign upon the Opera Populaire. Enjoy!**

**Remember: reviews and critiques help every aspiring author!**


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